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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29982435">A waking dream of life and light (hath left me broken-hearted)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/myonetruelove/pseuds/Sparklyfairymira'>Sparklyfairymira (myonetruelove)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Regency, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Marriage, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, POV Bellamy Blake, POV Clarke Griffin, POV Multiple, Scandal, Secrets, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:33:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>61,179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29982435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/myonetruelove/pseuds/Sparklyfairymira</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is Clarke Griffin's first Season and she is determined to find a husband, but not just any husband—the best that she can find, though she would prefer a love match.</p><p>Bellamy Blake, Duke of Hastings, wants nothing to do with London society but when business calls him to town during the season Lady Diyoza begs him to stay. It's hard for him to say no to the woman who had raised him following his mother's dead when his father wanted nothing to do with them. He has no desire to ever marry which is why he has always avoided this time in London.</p><p>The pair's first encounter isn't a good one but soon the two of them are scheming and pretending to court. Because what could go wrong while pretending to be courting?</p><p>Or the Bridgerton AU that I had to write.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! Here is the first chapter of my newest prompt for t100fic4blm. The prompter requested that they not be tagged but I wanted to say thank you for prompting this! Following this first chapter, this WIP will go into my WIP rotation. Please check out my fic update list <a href="https://sparklyfairymira.tumblr.com/post/632973715782729728/prompt-fic-updates">HERE</a>. Also, the prompter donated to the Black Art Future Fund, check out their website <a href="#section0001">HERE</a>.</p><p>This fic is marked as non-con for one reason and one reason only which will take place in chapter 2. If you've seen the show Bridgerton you will know which scene I'm referencing. If you have not seen it I will give more details in the next chapter. It's more of a dub-con than anything, but to be on the safe side I have marked it as non-con.</p><p>Just a reminder that I, along with many other talented and creators are currently taking prompts via t100fic4blm. Please check out <a href="t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co">our carrd here</a> to see what we're all about. Is there a story idea that you want to read? A song you KNOW needs to be made into a video? Or want a fic trailer done for your fic (because I'm getting quite good at those lol). If you want to donate, but don't know what to prompt we've got you covered there too with <a href="https://www.notion.so/t100-Fic-for-BLM-Prompt-Ideas-b71c84406c884099a9682133636abc09">our new prompt board.</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Welcome ladies and gentlemen of the ton. You might not know my name yet but I assure you that by the end of the Season, you will all know my name. I am Lady Whistledown and I am here to keep you apprised of the going on’s of the ton.</p><p> </p><p>Tonight is the opening event of the Season hosted by the Wallaces. It would seem that the youngest Wallace is ecstatic to show off his new bride. As a man who has been around for many Seasons, he should know better. This first event is not for the hosts, but for the young ladies of the ton who are making their debuts on the marriage market.</p><p> </p><p>Just yesterday each of the young women were presented to Queen Indra. While the queen found most of the young ladies wanting, she did name Miss Clarke Griffin as the incomparable of the season—which means that the queen has high expectations for Miss Griffin.</p><p> </p><p>Miss Griffin while not quite the eldest girl of her family she is the first to debut on the ton. The Griffins are a family of much wealth and held in very high esteem in the ton, so it was already expected that Miss Griffin find a good match for herself. Now there is even more pressure for her to find the perfect match. It is known by all how lovely the eldest Griffin daughter is and if the talk is to be believed, she is also kind. It should not be hard for such a diamond to find a husband.</p><p> </p><p>The Griffin household is headed by Viscount Roan Griffin who became head of the household when Jacob Griffin passed away ten years ago before his youngest daughter had even been born. The stories that are told about the viscount are that he is quite wild and if the rumors are to be believed he is not looking for a wife as he has already found himself a mistress that he keeps in apartments. The man is already thirty years old, who would like to be the one to tell him that it is far past time that he finds himself a wife?</p><p> </p><p>John Murphy Griffin, three years the viscount’s junior, seems to stay in the background more than many members of the Griffin family. He has brought no scandal to his family name as of yet unless you count his refusal to use his given name. Apparently, there have been a few fisticuffs when someone has deigned to call him John instead of Murphy. I guess tempers run high in this family. It does make one wonder if either of the eldest Griffins will ever settle down.</p><p> </p><p>Monty Griffin is the third Griffin child, though he was the first that the former Viscount and the Dowager Viscountess adopted. It is widely known that the Griffins adopted two orphaned children, though it appears that they have never treated the children any differently. Monty has just returned from university so maybe he will find himself a wife this year? Only time will tell.</p><p> </p><p>The four remaining Griffins are unlikely to be seen at the events of the ton, though it is possible that Raven Griffin might make an appearance or two. While she is technically old enough to enter the marriage market, she for some reason has not. Merely a month older than her younger sister, Raven like Monty was adopted as a baby. She and Clarke were raised together and from all accounts are the closest of friends, though they could not be more different. The stories that I have heard say that Raven was not included in the Season because the dowager Viscountess was worried about her temperament. I am not sure what difference a year will make on someone’s temperament but again, only time will tell.</p><p> </p><p>The youngest three Griffin children are Charlotte at sixteen, Ethan at twelve, and Madi at ten. They are too young to attend any of the events that the rest of their family will spend the Season at. But this will allow each of them a chance to see what they have to look forward to.</p><p> </p><p>Baron McCreary’s wife also introduced their three daughters to the queen, though this will be the eldest Roma’s third Season and middle daughter Bree’s second. This was the first year for Harper McCreary and while a lovely girl, she seems a bit too timid. Here is to hoping that at least one of these ladies lands themselves a husband.</p><p> </p><p>Also, debuting this season is Josephine Lightbourne. The Lightbournes are lucky for the money that they have to offer along with their daughter because her temperament leaves much to be desired.</p><p> </p><p>There are so many girls and so little time to discuss them. Do not fret reader for I will keep you up to date on the comings and going of anyone of any import this Season. In the meantime, I wonder if you have heard about the unexpected appearance of the dashing Duke of Hastings. Never before has he deigned the ton with his presence during the Season. Does that mean that the duke has finally decided to take a wife? I will do all that I can to uncover the truth for you, dear reader. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p><p> </p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke runs her hand down the front of her dress as she turns from side to side, looking at her reflection. She has to make sure that she looks perfect—after all, she is the incomparable of the Season. She must make sure that she is at her best. How else will she find a husband? She knows that how her season goes will affect how those of her sisters as well. </p><p> </p><p>“I do not know why you bother,” Raven scoffs from the doorway. “We already know that you will land the most handsome, most perfect husband.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke rolls her eyes before turning to her sister. “You best watch your tongue. Mama could have made you debut this Season as well. She could still change her mind.”</p><p> </p><p>Raven makes a face. “If I have my way I will never debut. I do not want to spend months going to events just to find a husband. I have other plans for my life.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh do you now?” Clarke laughs. “If my Season is not successful, you will not be able to get out of entering next season. So maybe you should wish me well and not try to bring me down.”</p><p> </p><p>Raven sighs heavily. “I hope that you have a successful evening of wooing and courting and that you find yourself an acceptable husband.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” Clarke shakes her head as she turns back to the mirror. Maybe she should have her hair redone—she is not sure that she likes the way it looks. And is this dress really the best option for the first event of the Season? She sighs, shoulders slumping. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke knows that she is putting too much pressure on herself but she also knows that she must marry well. It is what she has always known she must do. Her whole life spent learning how to be a proper wife and how to run a household—no matter if there was something that she would rather be doing with her time. Her life has never been her own and unlike Raven, she has never thought of doing anything but what is expected of her.</p><p> </p><p>“Dear sister,” Roan already sounds annoyed as he appears in her doorway, “please tell me that you are almost ready to go. Mama, Murphy, Monty, and I have all been ready for at least a quarter of an hour. What is taking so long?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke narrows her eyes as they meet Roan’s in the mirror. “Do we not want me to find an acceptable husband, brother? Because if we do then I must look my best—I must be the best.” She bites her lip lightly as she eyes herself in the mirror once more. It will have to do. “Fine, brother, I am ready. Shall we go?”</p><p> </p><p>Roan offers Clarke his arm and slowly leads her down the stairs where she finds her mama and brothers awaiting their arrival. </p><p> </p><p>“You look beautiful,” Monty says, shooting her a quick smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Monty.” Clarke turns to Murphy who is smirking at her. “What do you have to say, Murphy?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy sighs deeply as if he is being put out. “I guess it will do, but you could have done better.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke frowns, reaching out to slap at Murphy’s arm but he easily dodges. “There is no reason to be cruel, brother.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, there is. I enjoy it. Is that not reason enough?” Murphy grins, barely dodging their mama’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I swear John Murphy Griffin if you do not behave yourself tonight and ruin your sister’s chances I will have your brother hang you up by your ears from the tree out front.” Abby tries to keep the stern look on her face, but it quickly crumbles as she laughs. “In all seriousness, I need all of you on your best behavior. We must do everything that we can to help Clarke.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke bites the inside of her cheek to keep from wincing. She hates all of the pressure that is being placed on her. She knows that her mama believes that she is helping but she is just making it worse.</p><p> </p><p>“Shall we go then?” Monty asks, coming over to offer Clarke his arm. </p><p> </p><p>She takes it gratefully, letting go of Roan’s. It is not that she does not love her eldest brother, it is just that he has not been acting himself as of late. She knows not what has caused this change but she wishes that he would revert to his previous, much better personality. And though she would never admit it aloud—Monty has always been her favorite.</p><p> </p><p>The carriage ride over is dull, so Clarke spends her time looking out the window and ignoring the conversation going on around her. If it is important they can tell her about it later. For now, she just wants to distract herself by watching the landscape passing by. Too soon the carriage comes to a stop and Clarke knows that they have arrived at the Wallaces. </p><p> </p><p>She has always liked the elder Mister Wallace but has never cared for his son. She is thankful that he wed last Season so she would not have to worry about his advances during her own Season. She is to be the last one from the carriage as it will allow everyone time to see that it is the Griffins who have arrived. Though the party will mostly take place inside the ballroom one must always assume that people are watching.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke straightens her shoulders and lifts her head as she places her hand in Roan’s, the other holding up the edge of her dress as she steps from the carriage. She forces a soft smile on her face, making sure to nod at anyone that they pass as Roan leads up the walkway. She takes a deep breath as they wait to be announced.</p><p> </p><p>And then she is walking down the stairs into the ballroom and all eyes are on her—she is the true belle of the ball. Now she must mingle and meet the eligible men—though she knows that she will have to rely on Roan for some of this since he knows the men of the ton much better than she does. She knows that he will not allow her to enter into an inappropriate marriage.</p><p> </p><p>People flock to her, which if she is honest is a little overwhelming, but she does her best to smile and answer their questions. When the first gentleman asks for a dance she offers him her card only for Roan to jerk her arm back. </p><p> </p><p>“So Dax, did you ever repay that debt to the club?” Roan glares at the other man. </p><p> </p><p>“I..uh…”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought not. Come along sister.” Roan takes her by the arm and begins to lead her away.</p><p> </p><p>“Roan, you must allow me to speak to the gentlemen and dance with them. How else will I get to know them or find a husband?” Clarke hisses under her breath, a smile still in place.</p><p> </p><p>Roan shakes his head before glancing down at her. “It is not your job to find you a husband, but mine. And I will not allow you to be linked with someone like Dax Lions. Trust me, Clarke. I will make sure that you find a proper match.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke barely manages to hold back a huff of frustration. She knew that Roan would be a pain when it came to her marrying, but she had not expected him to make it this hard. He might think that he is in charge of finding her a husband, but she will have a say in who she marries. After all, she wants a love match like her parents and she will not allow her brother to stand in her way.</p><p> </p><p>“Roan, I am parched. Do you think that you can get me a drink?” Clarke flutters her eyelashes up at him, playing the part of the helpless maiden.</p><p> </p><p>Roan sighs. “I do not want to leave you alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“I shall be just fine on my own for a few moments, brother.”</p><p> </p><p>Roan frowns. “Fine, do not accept any dances while I am gone.”</p><p> </p><p>As soon as Roan disappears into the crowd, Clarke’s eyes begin to scan the crowd. She bites her lip as she tries to figure out who to speak to first. Someone clears their throat behind her and Clarke turns around to smile at the person—though her smile dips slightly when she sees who it is. “Mr. Collins.” She dips her head as she forces herself to keep her smile in place.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Griffin.” Finn reaches for her hand, lifting it to her lips. “Must we be so formal? We have known one another for years.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course not Finn.” It takes everything in Clarke to not yank her hand from his. Finn is a few years older than her and he has always been obsessed with her. Even though she has made it very clear that she has no interest in him.</p><p> </p><p>Finn smiles. “I am glad to see you out tonight, Clarke. I have waited years for you to debut so that I might offer myself as one of your suitors.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke swallows, eyes flashing around the room as she seeks someone that can help remove her from the situation, but she finds no one. Where are her mama and her brothers? How is it that they have all disappeared? “That is….nice…” </p><p> </p><p>“I am glad to hear that you think so.” Finn still has ahold of her hand and when she tries to pull it back, he continues to hold onto it. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I am sorry Finn, but my mama is trying to get my attention.” Clarke pulls her hand free finally as she steps around him. “It was wonderful seeing you.” She practically runs to get away from him and when she glances back she finds that he is still watching her.</p><p> </p><p>She bumps into something solid, large hands landing on her waist to steady her. “I am so sorry,” she says, eyes wide as she turns her head to see who she has just run into.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I am sure.” Sarcasm drips from his words, setting Clarke immediately on edge. The man is about the same height as Murphy, therefore shorter than Roan, but his shoulders are wide like her eldest brother. His skin is a beautiful brown unlike any that she has ever seen with inky black curls that spill over his forehead and soulful brown eyes. “As if you did not run into me on purpose.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke jerks out of his grasp, wrinkling her nose. “I assure you, sir, that I did not bump into you on purpose. I was only attempting to escape a conversation with someone I did not want to speak to.”</p><p> </p><p>The man sneers down at her. “You are just like all the other young ladies and their mamas here tonight, trying to land the best husband. Well, I am not in search of a wife, so you can look elsewhere.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s temper is boiling and she barely manages to keep her voice under control. “What is your name, sir? I should at least know the name of a man so arrogant to assume that he knows everything about everyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“As if you do not know my name,” the man smirks. “You can drop the act now. I am onto you and there is no reason for you to continue this charade.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why, you pompous a-” Clarke is cut off by her brother’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Hastings!” Roan throws his arms around the man, pulling him in for a hug. “I had heard that you made it to town. And I see that you have met my sister.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sister?” The man’s eyes flash to her for a moment and Clarke thinks she might see a hint of an apology there for a moment but it is quickly gone as he turns back to Roan. “I would prefer that you do not call me Hastings, that was my father’s name and not mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, fine.” Roan rolls his eyes. “Bellamy Blake, Duke of Hastings, I would like to introduce you to my eldest sister, Miss Clarke Griffin.”</p><p> </p><p>“How do you do, your Grace?” Clarke practically growls as she does a quick bow at her waist. “I did not know who I was running into but had I known it was a duke, I would have made a much more sincere apology. Though if you are friends with my brother, you are probably used to less refined people so it is probably fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy raises an eyebrow, smirking at her. “And had I known that I was running into the incomparable of the Season, I would have been more polite.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke scoffs, “Doubtful, but at least I now understand why you are the way you are. Good evening, sir.” She spins on her heel and stalks off. She can hear Roan calling after her, but she chooses to ignore him.</p><p> </p><p>She has never been spoken to in such a manner as this before and she does not like it one bit. Bellamy Blake is an arrogant ass and she wants nothing to do with him—especially if he is a friend of her brother’s. She loves Roan but she also knows of his reputation—even if he thinks she does not. So she can only assume that any friend of his behaves as her brother does. Clarke finds her mama talking with Monty, so she makes her way over to them. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Clarke, are you having a good time?” Abby asks as she smiles at her daughter.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke forces another smile. “Of course Mama, how could I not?” She allows herself to scan the crowd once more in the hopes of finding a gentleman to possibly dance with. She has not yet danced and she would like to.</p><p> </p><p>“Who is that?” Monty asks, awe apparent in his voice. </p><p> </p><p>Both Clarke and her mama turn to see who he is referring to. Standing with Diana, Roma, Bree, and Harper McCreary is a pretty redhead that Clarke has never seen before.</p><p> </p><p>“I am not sure,” Abby answers. “Though it appears that she is with the McCrearys and she is quite pretty. Outshines the elder two McCreary girls quite a lot does she not?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mama,” Clarke hisses, “You are not supposed to say things like that aloud in public.”</p><p> </p><p>The Dowager Viscountess shrugs. “What difference does it matter if I make the comment here or at home—that does not make it any less true.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shakes her head. It is not that she does not agree with her mama—it is that she does not agree with saying something like that where others can hear. She would hate for the comment to get back to either Roma or Bree as it could hurt them. They might not be close friends of hers but she does not like to see others hurting. </p><p> </p><p>But of the three McCreary girls, Harper is the most beautiful—though it seems that her mama might be trying to hide that by dressing her in the most absurd colors. Bright yellow is not the right color for Harper. Clarke sighs. Poor Harper, she is such a sweet girl. Harper, Raven, and herself have been close for years since they are all so close in age. Though lately, she knows that Raven and Harper have been spending more time together without Clarke as she prepared for her debut. </p><p> </p><p>Her eyes land on the pretty redhead and Clarke wonders who she is. Lady McCreary already has three daughters on the marriage market so why would she add another? Especially one that far outshines two out of three of her daughters. She shrugs, making a note to visit Harper with Raven at her earliest convenience. </p><p> </p><p>“Clarke,” Roan appears at her elbow, “I think it is time that we return home.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I have barely spoken to anyone and have danced with no one,” Clarke tries to keep the whine from her voice but she does not manage it completely. </p><p> </p><p>“We must leave them wanting more.”  Roan slides her hand into his arm.</p><p> </p><p>Abby frowns. “But Roan, the night has just begun. I do not think-”</p><p> </p><p>“Correct, you do not think about how to handle my sister’s debut, I handle it,” Roan’s voice comes out harsh and Clarke flinches as she turns to look at her mama.</p><p> </p><p>The hurt is written all over her mama’s face but all she does is nod at Roan. “As you say, son.”</p><p> </p><p>Roan leads her from the ballroom and Clarke glances back as they reach the top of the stairs. She hopes that Roan is correct and leaving them wanting more will work. She just wishes that she could have danced at least once. She lets out a sigh as Roan leads her through the doorway and toward their awaiting carriage. She had really been hoping for a bit more fun tonight.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Is it possible that the queen was incorrect in naming Miss Clarke Griffin the diamond of the season? From all appearances, she has had few suitors while unexpectedly the lovely Miss Zoe Monroe has been overwhelmed by the number of suitors lining up for her. Surely Lady McCreary is not happy with all of the attention to her husband’s niece when her daughters have not yet secured a match.</p><p> </p><p>Let us hope for Miss Griffin’s sake that she is just biding her time because we know that there is one thing that the queen hates most of all—being wrong. Only time will tell, but personally, I am rooting for Miss Griffin—she has fire, that one. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs as his eyes take in the Griffins table once more. When Lady Diyoza had informed him that she had accepted an invitation for dinner at the Griffins for the two of them, he had barely managed to keep his displeasure hidden. It is not that he does not want to see his good friend Roan but he can barely stand fussy dinners. When he had arrived at Lady Diyoza’s home and been informed by the butler that she had taken ill Bellamy had almost turned around and headed home.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing that had kept him from doing so was the tongue lashing the Lady Diyoza was sure to give him. It is not that he cannot put up with a tongue lashing but why deal with one when one does not have to? This is how he has found himself sitting at the Griffins’ dinner table with the whole family—something unheard of in their social circles and he still does not fully understand it—and actually enjoying himself. One thing is for sure, this is not just another fussy dinner.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s eyes slide to Clarke who is seated to his left. He would have chosen another chair if he could have but the Dowager Viscountess was having none of it. So he has spent much of the dinner speaking to the mother of his closest friend to avoid speaking with Clarke. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke has pointedly avoided conversation with him as well and that has made him wonder if he was wrong about her. He knows that she is seeking out a husband—that much is plain—but maybe she had not known who he was the night before when she had stumbled into him. </p><p> </p><p>His hand clenches around his fork at the memory of her soft body pressed against his—even if it had been for but a moment. He glances at her from the corner of his eye, barely biting back a sigh. She is beautiful—there is no question about that—and if she had been anyone besides one of his oldest friend’s younger sisters he might have tried to bed her. But she is off-limits. He knows that even without the sharp looks that Roan, seated at the other end of the table, has been sending him all night.</p><p> </p><p>“You do not seem happy to be seated beside me, Miss Griffin,” Bellamy finds himself saying as he continues to eat. He does not miss the way that Roan’s head turns sharply in their direction.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s jaw clenches for a moment before she turns to look at him. “I know not of what you speak of, Your Grace.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy grins, barely able to reign in the laugh that wants to spill from his lips. “Of course not.”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes narrow on him before she turns back to her dinner. “Though I would not question someone not wanting to speak to someone of your repute.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of my repute?” he asks as he sets down his fork, turning so that she has his full attention. “And what is it that you know of my repute?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke waits until she finishes her bite before turning to face him once more. “You are good friends with my brother, are you not?” She waits for his nod before continuing, “That is all that I need to know as I know of my own brother’s repute.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke,” the Dowager Viscountess hisses.</p><p> </p><p>“It is fine,” Bellamy says with a smile to her before turning his attention back to Clarke. “It does appear that you have made up your mind about me already.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shrugs, not bothering to respond to his words. Bellamy chuckles. This one has a sharp tongue on her and he wonders what it says about him that he wants to hear more barbs fall from her tongue in his direction.</p><p> </p><p>“It is understandable to make assumptions about someone we do not know,” Bellamy continues. “As I have of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” Clarke asks, eyes flashing at him—her curiosity obviously winning out over her obvious dislike of him. He will need to figure out what exactly has caused her to like him so when they have had so little contact. But that is is a problem for another day.</p><p> </p><p>“Why yes, of course. For example, I know that you are desperate.” Bellamy takes a drink from his water glass, fighting his desire to smile when he hears her gasp and hears someone at the other end of the table—he assumes it is Roan—slam their silverware onto the table. He turns to look at Clarke again, keeping his face blank against the fire and anger in her eyes. “Desperate for a husband of course.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s eyes narrow on him and he knows that she wants to rip him to shreds with her words, but he also knows that she has been raised better than that. He gets more joy than he should from working her up—something he will have to think on at a later time. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke forces a smile. “Well, of course, I want to find a husband and a good one at that. Just as the men that are courting me are looking for a good wife. Only rakes have no plans to marry.” Her eyes stay locked on his and he can see that she thinks he has scored one against him.</p><p> </p><p>“You may be right, Miss Griffin,” Bellamy smirks. Maybe staying on for the season will not be as bad as he had originally thought it would be.</p><p> </p><p>“So, Blake,” Roan calls from the other end of the table. “Remind me again why you are here this evening.”</p><p> </p><p>“Roan!”</p><p> </p><p>Roan glances at his mother and nods his head in apology, but Bellamy just laughs. He understands that Roan just wants him to steer clear of Clarke—which should be an easy task but Bellamy is already questioning that fact.</p><p> </p><p>“Lady Diyoza accepted on both of our behalfs.” Bellamy glances down the table at Roan. “But she took ill, so I came on my own.”</p><p> </p><p>The Dowager Viscountess pulls him into a conversation and he does not speak with Clarke again that evening but he is constantly aware of her movements which is curious. He does hope that this growing interest in Clarke will pass soon—there is no reason for him to lust after something that shall never be his.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Everyone in the ton has been abuzz about the Duke of Hastings. It was believed that he would not stick around long as the rumors are that he does not seek a wife. But I do believe that something must have caught his eye as I have it on good authority that he now plans to stay the season.</p><p> </p><p>I do hope that the young ladies who are searching out for a husband do not find themselves lost in the duke’s presence so much that they forget that he has apparently vowed to never wed. So why stick around? That is an excellent question, reader, and one that I plan to find out the answer to. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke sighs before pasting a smile on her face, allowing Roan to lead her into the room. Another ball and another chance to find herself a husband. She has heard her mama and her brother fighting over finding her a good marriage. Her mama seems to think that Roan has split his attention. Clarke knows that she should not know what that means but sometimes she overhears her brothers talking when they do not think that she is listening.</p><p> </p><p>Apparently, her eldest brother has been speaking much time with an opera singer by the name of Echo—someone that he apparently has no desire to marry. Clarke does not fully understand why a man would spend time with a woman that he has no intention to marry but she is sure that it is one of the many things that her mama has never explained to her. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke smiles at a gentleman that looks her way as they pass—she knows that she should know his name, but honestly? It has been hard to keep track of all of the names. When she forgets the name of a man she just does not call him anything. Probably not the best plan but she knows not what else to do.</p><p> </p><p>Roan leads her across the room, making sure that they are seen by all. Roan might not have secured her a husband as of yet, but he does understand how to work a room. She smiles up at him. She has placed her trust in him as the head of the family to find her an acceptable match, but more than that she trusts her brother because she loves him and she knows that he loves her.</p><p> </p><p>“I have good news for you, sister,” Roan says as they come to a stop on the outskirts of the dance floor. They have traveled the room enough to have been seen by everyone.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke glances up at her brother, curious. “Oh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have arranged for you a husband.” Roan will not meet her eyes and as her temper begins to rise, she wonders why that might be.</p><p> </p><p>“You have <em> arranged </em> me a husband?” she snorts. “And who might this husband be?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mr. Finn Collins,” Roan says in a rush, still unable to meet her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely not,” Clarke laughs. “You must be out of your head if you think that I will marry that man.</p><p> </p><p>Roan scowls, eyes finally meeting hers. “I was quested with finding you an acceptable husband and I have. You will marry Mr. Collins.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke pulls her arm from his grasp. “I will do no such thing, brother.” She shakes her head. “And next time you want to <em> arrange </em> a husband for me? Maybe you should check with me to see if I would approve.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke does not wait for her brother to answer, spinning on her heel and stalking from the room. She cares not what they think of her. If she does not get out of there she might do something very unladylike—like punch her brother in the face. She is barely able to keep her temper in check as she rushes outside and into the garden.</p><p> </p><p>Who does he think he is? Telling her who she will marry. That is not how things work in their family. He does not own her. She is not a thing for him to marry off. She is his sister and he should consult her before deciding on who she will marry. She will not accept this marriage. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke slows as she reaches the lake, closing her eyes as she forces herself to breathe. She could not stay in there to have this conversation with him. She knows that he chose to tell her at the ball so that she could not yell at him when he told her. Well, he is in for a surprise the moment that they leave this party. </p><p> </p><p>Marry Finn Collins? What a joke. He cannot be serious. And if he is? Clarke is also serious about not marrying him. She would marry him over her dead body.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, if it is not my future bride.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke immediately freezes, her muscles tightening up before she turns around to face Finn. She forces out a laugh, not liking the look on his face—a look like she is a dinner he wants to eat or a prize that he has won. “I am sorry to inform you that any promises made by my dear brother were made without my knowledge. I am very sorry, but we will not marry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, we will,” Finn says quietly as he steps closer to her. “Your brother gave his word that we would wed, so we shall wed. No matter your opinion on the matter.”</p><p> </p><p>Is he serious right now? Clarke blinks at him as he continues moving toward her. She is not sure that she heard him correctly. And she does not like the look on his face. Her eyes dart around and she realizes that they are alone. How could she be so stupid? Nothing good could come of her being alone with a man at night—her reputation would be ruined.</p><p> </p><p>“And since you are to be my bride then I am sure that no one would deny me a sneak peek.” Finn is close enough that Clarke can feel his hot breath on her skin and while she might not know what he is talking about, she understands that what he wants to do is not something she wants to do. </p><p> </p><p>When he reaches for her she tries to duck under his arms, but Finn stops her. He laughs and it is not a sound that she likes as he wraps his arms around her. Clarke tries to struggle out of his reach, eyes darting around as she tries to figure out how to get away from him. Finally, she stomps on his foot hard enough that he drops his hold on her. She balls up her fist—thankful for having three older brothers—and pulls it back as she hears a noise to her right.</p><p> </p><p>“Get your hands-” the voice breaks off as Clarke’s fist makes contact with Finn’s nose and he falls to the ground. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke turns to find Bellamy beginning to laugh as he watches Finn roll around on the ground. Slowly he turns to her, sobering. “Are you alright, Miss Griffin?”</p><p> </p><p>“I am fine, except for the fact that I am in the dark, unchaperoned with two men. My reputation shall be ruined.” Clarke fights the tears that are threatening to fall over. How could she have been so stupid? If her reputation is ruined, she will not have an acceptable marriage—she will be unlikely to find anyone who would like to marry her.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy huffs, attention turning to Finn as he tries to stand. He shakes his head before rushing over and pulling the other man up by his shirt collar. “You will return to the ball and you will not speak of what happened out here. If you do, I will inform the Viscount of what I witnessed and then I will watch as he kills you.”</p><p> </p><p>“But she is to be my wife,” Finn whines.</p><p> </p><p>“I shall never be your wife,” Clarke grinds out, shaking her head. “I want nothing to do with you, let alone to be your wife.”</p><p> </p><p>“The lady has spoken. Now, why do you not scurry inside and forget that you ever saw Miss Griffin?” Bellamy lets go of Finn.</p><p> </p><p>The other man looks between the two of them before brushing off his clothes, muttering something under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“I would watch my mouth, if I were you,” Bellamy warns, his voice cold and deadly. “That is not the proper way to speak of a lady. Now, get inside before I lose my temper.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke watches as Finn hurries inside before turning back to Bellamy. “I did not need your help.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is abundantly clear.” Bellamy shakes his head as he looks at her and there is something in his eyes that she has not seen there before. Is that admiration? </p><p> </p><p>Clarke shakes her head. Of course, it is not. That is not important though. What is important is figuring out how she will make it back to the ball without anyone realizing that she had been in the dark gardens unchaperoned with a man. She sighs. She must figure this out and quickly.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy keeps his face neutral as he leads Clarke to the dance floor, all the while berating himself. What the hell had he been thinking? When he’d come to London he had zero intention of staying. Even when Lady Diyoza had requested that he stay, he had planned to only stay a short while. So why in the hell had he agreed to pretend to court Clarke?</p><p> </p><p>Yes, he enjoys her company—much more than he should—and yes, it might get the mamas of the ton to get off of his back, but if he is honest with himself he could not bear the look on Clarke’s face when she swore that she would not marry Finn Collins.</p><p> </p><p>Finn Collins. Bellamy scoffs as he bows to Clarke, the music beginning to play around them. His eyes are locked with hers and he is sure to others it will look like he is doing nothing but enjoying a dance with a beautiful young lady, but his thoughts are all over the place. </p><p> </p><p>When he had seen Finn’s hands all over Clarke he had seen red. He might need to teach that man a lesson sometime soon. But then Clarke, the firecracker that she is, had punched him in the face. It had been one of the best things he has seen in a long time.</p><p> </p><p>The words had spilled from his lips before he had even realized what he was suggesting. While he had surprised not only Clarke but himself with his suggestion, he has to admit that it is a good plan. He knows how men’s minds work and if it looks like he desires her, they will desire her hand as well. And with any luck, the mamas will think that he is serious about her and stop trying to push all of their daughters on him. It does require that he and Clarke be civil to one another—something that they have not yet succeeded at, but he thinks that they can handle it. The finer details will still need to be worked out, but for now, they share their first dance. </p><p> </p><p>“Smile,” he whispers as they move close to one another. “You must look like you are enjoying my company or this will never work.”</p><p> </p><p>A small smile makes its way onto her lips as she moves away from him and then back again. “I do hope that I am a good actress.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy is so surprised as he barks out a laugh. That tongue of hers could get her into trouble one day, but Bellamy likes it. “I hope for both of our sakes that you are as well.” He spins her to the man beside him as they switch partners.</p><p> </p><p>Is this plan smart? Probably not. His curiosity about Clarke runs much deeper than it should. The smart thing to do would be to walk away and leave London now, but he does not want to. He wants to know more about her, he wants to hear more barbs spill from her lips. </p><p> </p><p>He shoots her a smile as she spins back into his arms. He has no intention to marry which he has made abundantly clear to her, so what is the harm in spending some time with her while he helps her find a husband? He cannot think of any, so instead, he pats himself on the back for his brilliant idea.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>It does appear that Miss Griffin is not yet giving up. In fact, she appears to have snagged herself a big fish—Bellamy Blake, the Duke of Hastings. At the last ball, the pair shared not one—not two—but three dances. The duke has not deigned anyone worth dancing with before the ball a few nights ago. Something about Miss Griffin must have snagged his attention. She must be the reason that he has chosen to stay in the ton for the Season. I am sorry to all of you who thought that the duke might turn his attention in your direction, but it appears that the diamond of the Season is the only lady that holds his attention.</p><p> </p><p>The eligible bachelors of the ton must have also taken note of the duke’s attention upon Miss Griffin as she has had more and more callers upon her since the ball. How they plan to live up to a duke I do not know, but it shall be fun to watch them try. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>“Your Grace,” Clarke inclines her head as Bellamy approaches with Lady Diyoza. “Lady.”</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Griffin.” Bellamy bows. “Viscountess.” He takes Abby’s hand and lifts it to his lips before turning to Clarke. “Shall we promenade?” he smirks as he offers his arm to her.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke smiles, shaking her head slightly—he might be overplaying it a bit. She had thought that he was crazy when he had suggested that they pretend to court, but it does look as if he was correct. Each day she has had more and more gentleman callers, but unfortunately, Finn Collins has been creeping around as well. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke schools her face so as to not reveal her anger and disgust at the thought of his name. And to top it all off, Roan is continuing to tell her that she shall marry him. Which she shall not, no matter what her brother has to say about it. </p><p> </p><p>“So it appears that our plan is working, does it not Miss Griffin,” Bellamy says quietly, smile firmly in place as he glances down at her.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke finds herself returning his smile without a thought as she nods. “It does indeed. You were correct that the gentlemen seem to enjoy the idea of sweeping me away from you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs. “Of course they do and I am no longer being overwhelmed with invitations to the house of all of the young ladies of the ton.”</p><p> </p><p>“But we must continue to keep up appearances,” Clarke says quietly, turning her head to make sure that no one can overhear. “My brother is still adamant that I marry Mr. Collins.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Bellamy scoffs. “I take it that you have not told him of what Mr. Collins did the other night.”</p><p> </p><p>“No.” Clarke shakes her head. “And I shall not, nor shall you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy raises his hand in surrender. “I told you that I would not and I shall not.” He pauses. “Though I do think you should tell him. If you did, he would stop telling you to marry the man.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You do not understand,” Clarke says with a sigh. “Because I am a woman, no one believes that I can take care of myself—especially my brother—but as you saw, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy chuckles. “That you are.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shakes his head. “We still have not agreed upon the number of events that we shall attend together.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy rolls his eyes and lets out a loud sigh. “Must we discuss this now?”</p><p> </p><p>“If not now, then when? You never want to discuss it.” Clarke raises an eyebrow as she glances up at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You are correct, I do not care to ever discuss it.” Bellamy raises a hand to stop her when she opens her mouth to speak. “But I understand that we must discuss it, so we might as well do it now.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke grins up at him. She is not used to him giving in to her so easily. She takes a moment to just look at him. He really is quite handsome when he smiles—much more so than when he scowls, which seems to be much of the time. She prefers him in the daylight when his freckles are more prominent and what is she doing? She shakes her head to clear her thoughts. It does not matter if he is attractive. This is just an agreement to pretend to court between the two of them—it cannot and will never be more than that.</p><p> </p><p>“Four balls,” Clarke begins.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs. “Two balls.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Clarke sighs, “We shall meet in the middle with three. But we must promenade at the minimum of four days a week.”</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously? Why so often?” Bellamy groans as he glances down at her. </p><p> </p><p>“Because if we are not seen, how will they know that we are courting?” Clarke asks as if it is the most obvious thing in the world—which to her, it is. She shakes her head. “And at least one event a week—on top of the balls.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy considers her for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Anything else?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” Clarke nods. “You must send flowers to the house—expensive ones.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs. “Yes, Miss Griffin, whatever you say.”</p><p> </p><p>From there, their conversation moves to the people that they see out promenading. Bellamy has a sharp tongue and she enjoys it—so long as it is not targeting her. She enjoys these moments when they just let everything go and stop pretending. Because this is not real, they do not have to pretend with one another and that is so freeing to Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>She just wishes that she did not have to remind herself so often that it is not—that they are not courting and Bellamy has no interest in her. But it is fine because they have become quick friends which is all that she needs from him. </p><p> </p><p>Even as she thinks it, she knows that she’s lying to herself and that she will continue to do so.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy dodges Lincoln’s fist as it flies at his face. Damn, he is fast. Bellamy shakes his head as he dodges the next punch but he is not able to get out of the way of the third. His head snaps back and he shakes his head to clear it. </p><p> </p><p>“So, I hear you have been courting a new lady,” Lincoln teases, moving from side to side before dodging a punch that Bellamy throws at his face. “Come on now, my man. You can do better than that.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs. He does not know why he continues to spar with Lincoln. His brother-in-law is a professional boxer and while he has taken the time to show Bellamy how to box, Bellamy knows that he will never be as good as Lincoln. Which is fine seeing as he is now a duke. </p><p> </p><p>Oh, how he hates that title. He wishes that he did not have to have it, but he will be the last in his line to have it—which is why he shall never take a wife. He cannot give them children and he will do that to no woman. </p><p> </p><p>“Am I here to gossip with you or to box?” Bellamy asks, avoiding the question. He does not want to discuss his fake courtship with Clarke. He does not want to lie to Lincoln but he also cannot tell him that the courtship is not real, so he will avoid the subject altogether.</p><p> </p><p>“Blake!” Roan roars as he tears the door open.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy glances toward his friend, not realizing that Lincoln has thrown a punch at him. He stumbles back as Lincoln’s fist hits his cheek. He can tell that Lincoln tried to pull back but had not been able to completely stop the strike. </p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, Bellamy,” Lincoln says with a shake of his head. “Though you know better than to allow yourself to become distracted in the ring.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy just rolls his eyes before turning to Roan. “What have I done now?”</p><p> </p><p>“What have you done?” Roan scoffs. “You really need to ask?”</p><p> </p><p>“I came here to box, so if you want to talk you need to do it with gloves on your hand,” Bellamy says as he glances at Lincoln who just shrugs. </p><p> </p><p>“Probably better that you fight someone with less skill than myself,” Lincoln says with a laugh. “We would not want to mess up that pretty face of yours too much.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy watches as Lincoln climbs from the ring before turning his attention to Roan who is currently strapping on gloves. He knows why Roan is here—he is not an idiot—but just as he did not want to discuss Clarke with Lincoln, he has no desire to speak of her to Roan. But as her older brother, Bellamy knows that he will be unable to dodge Roan’s questions as he did Lincoln’s.</p><p> </p><p>Roan climbs into the ring and he moves erratically. He is obviously very angry and Bellamy assumes it has something to do with Clarke because what the hell else could he be this mad about. “What is this nonsense with you courting my sister?” Roan asks just before he tries to jab at Bellamy. “We both know that you have no plans to marry, so what is this game that you are playing?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy easily avoids the punch and shakes his head. “Have you considered that I might have changed my mind for your sister?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Roan scoffs. “You might be my friend but I do not trust you with my sister.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy flinches. That hurts more than he would like to admit. On one hand, he understands—Roan has been there for much of his outlandish behavior—but on the other hand, they are friends, and does he not hold a high enough opinion of his own sister to think that she could change his mind on the subject of marriage. He has told no one of the vow that he made to his father on his deathbed, so his friend does not know why he refuses to marry.</p><p> </p><p>“Fighting angry is a bad idea, my friend.” Bellamy fakes a swing before stepping back. </p><p> </p><p>“If you do not agree to stay the hell away from my sister, I shall show you just how angry I am,” Roan spits out.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shakes his head. “I am sorry to hear that. I have no intentions of leaving your sister alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“She is set to marry Finn Collins,” Roan hisses. “You need to leave her be.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your sister has told me that she has no intentions to marry Mr. Collins. In fact, she seems to hold the man in little regard, so why are you so set on her marrying him?” Bellamy knows that he could easily end this fight but he is curious to see what Roan’s answer will be. Then maybe he shall end the fight.</p><p> </p><p>“She wanted a good match and I found her one. I do not understand the issue.” Roan takes another swing at him but Bellamy ducks under it, giving Roan a bit of a push with his foot.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy grins as Roan stumbles. “A marriage to me would be a better match, would it not?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it would not. I would not wish you on my dear sister,” Roan snarls and Bellamy sees red. </p><p> </p><p>He swings at Roan—probably harder than he should—and watches in satisfaction as his friend’s back hits the floor. “If I did not know better, I would not think us friends. I shall continue to court your sister and I do not care what you think of the matter, nor does she. So accept it and get out of the way, or you will deal with her wrath.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shakes his head as he climbs out of the ring. He had known that Roan would come at him eventually but his words had been sharper than he had anticipated and they had sunk deeper than Bellamy would have liked. He forces himself to take a few deep breaths as he rips the gloves from his hands. He is supposed to head home with Lincoln after their spar so that he can see his half-sister and her nephew, but he cannot now. His anger is too palpable and he will not bring that into their home. He will make it up to Octavia soon.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>There has been some noise that Viscount Roan Griffin has promised Miss Clarke Griffin’s hand to Mr. Finn Collins. Interesting as the young Miss Griffin continues to act as if she is unattached. Well, at the very least unattached to Mr. Collins. It appears that she is quite attached to the duke. Though who can blame her?</p><p> </p><p>But it is not just Mr. Collins who seems to fancy Miss Griffin. It has been said that she has turned down no less than three proposals already. It is obvious that she is awaiting a better offer—from the duke perhaps? There is no question in my mind that Miss Griffin is indeed, the incomparable of the Season and she will be married by the end of the Season. Who will she marry? The answer to that question is currently unclear but as soon as it becomes clear be sure that I will share it with you, my dearest readers. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Another day and another ball. </p><p> </p><p>Clarke sighs quietly, startling when someone says, “If you want to find yourself a proper husband, you must smile. No one wants to marry a serious woman.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke turns to face Bellamy, her lips quirking up as she meets his eyes. “Is that so? And how would a rake like you know that? You still have no plans to marry, right?”</p><p> </p><p>“That might be true but you act as if I do not know how the world works.” Bellamy laughs, eyes never leaving hers. “Would you like to dance Miss Griffin?”</p><p> </p><p>“I would love nothing more.” Clarke shakes her head. Bellamy seems to be in high spirits tonight—something she is not used to seeing. When she had first met him she had thought him to be brash and arrogant—now she knows that these things are true—but also serious. Now she knows that this is a mask that he hides behind and it delights her that he does not feel the need to wear that mask around her. </p><p> </p><p>She allows Bellamy to lead her to the dance floor, eyes landing on Roan who appears to be deep in conversation with Finn. She shakes her head. Roan will not give up on her marrying Finn and it is not fair. She will have a say in who she marries. Period.</p><p> </p><p>“Come now, my dear Miss Griffin,” Bellamy speaks softly as they move to the music. “You must at least pretend that you are having a good time. Otherwise, our plan shall fail.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, silly me.” Clarke forces a smile but as soon as her attention is back on Bellamy she does not have to pretend to be having a good time—she just is. She scowls when Murphy approaches as the song ends. “What is it, brother?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy makes a face. “The Viscount demanded that I dance with my sister and is requesting your presence, Your Grace.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy lifts Clarke’s hand to his lips, kissing it softly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I hope that you will allow me another dance later?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, Your Grace.” Clarke watches him walk away before turning back to her brother. “What is the reason that our dear brother sent you to dance with me?”</p><p> </p><p>Murphy laughs, throwing his head back as the next song begins to play. “Roan does not approve of your courtship with the duke. He is very set on you marrying Mr. Collins.” Murphy makes a face. “Although I will never understand why. That man is not worthy of you.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, he is not.” Clarke shakes her head, her attention turning to where her brother and Bellamy seem to be having a very heated conversation. “I do wish that he would stop meddling in my business.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, but dear sister, who you marry <em> is </em> Roan’s business—as we both know,” Murphy says before spinning her away from him. “But what I find most amusing is that he seems to forget that it is you who is marrying, so you should have at least some say in who you marry. And if it is the duke that you desire to marry? As long as he has the same intentions, I do not see what our brother’s issue is.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s attention returns to Roan, eyes widening as she sees Bellamy holding Roan back from punching Finn. What could make her brother cause a scene such as this? She frowns. Surely the duke had not told him. She shakes her head slowly. She is going to kill Bellamy—she cares not if he is a duke—because as Roan glances in her direction she has no doubt that he has just told her brother what Finn had done. Murphy obviously feels the shift in her mood because he does not try to speak with her any further. </p><p> </p><p>As soon as the song is over she breaks away from her brother without a word, storming over to Bellamy. “Who do you think you are?” she demands.</p><p> </p><p>“Pardon me?” he asks as he looks down at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Who. Do. You. Think. You. Are?” Clarke can barely see through her anger. “Why did you tell my brother about what Mr. Collins did? Do not even try to deny it, I know that is what happened. So tell me. Who do you think you are?”</p><p> </p><p>“I-uh…” Bellamy shakes his head and it is obvious that he is confused by her words.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke scoffs, “Is it because I am a woman? Is that why you think that I cannot take care of myself? Well, let me tell you right now, Your Grace,” she puts as much venom as she can into her voice as she speaks his title. “I am perfectly capable of caring for myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Clark suddenly becomes very aware that all eyes are on the two of them. She swallows before taking a deep breath. “And now you have made me cause a scene—something I had hoped to avoid.” She spins and rushes from the room. She does not want to be here anymore and that is only partially because she is afraid that she might kill Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>There is nothing more in this life that she hates than a man “taking care of her.” Her brothers have been trying to do it to her the entirety of her life, though Murphy and Monty will back off if she mentions it. Roan? Not so much. As much as she appreciates the friendship she is building with Bellamy she does not need another man in her life that feels the need to manage her or save her from things. He will either learn or he will find himself in need of another young lady to pretend to court.</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke turns to find Monty frowning at her. “Excellent, there is one of my brothers that I am not ready to kill. Would you escort me home because if I stay here I am likely to do something very unladylike?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.” Monty does not ask any other questions of her as he leads her from the ball, for which she is thankful. She does not wish to rehash the evening that she had punched Mr. Collins. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Following Clarke’s hurried exit Bellamy decides that he might as well head home. Lady Diyoza is happy to remain at the ball on her own as she whispers with the Dowager Viscountess—though she has begged him to call her Abby, he cannot seem to bring himself to do so. He leaves his carriage for Lady Diyoza, choosing to walk home instead.</p><p> </p><p>He is angry at himself, at Roan, and even at Clarke. But the person that he is angriest with is Finn Collins. He has never liked that prat and seeing him put his hands on Clarke had only confirmed his opinion. Roan had been droning on and on about how he needs to stay away from Clarke because Clarke must marry Mr. Collins and he still managed to hold his tongue. But when Finn had interrupted their conversation, whining about Clarke not giving him enough attention Bellamy could not hold it back any longer. </p><p> </p><p>He needed Roan to understand why he could not allow his sister to marry that wretched man. Roan had understood alright and almost punched the bastard right there at the ball. Bellamy understands Clarke’s anger. She is right—he does not know what it is like to be a lady. No one has ever tried to save him and he has never thought of it from the lady’s point of view. She has every right to be angry with him, but he has every right to want to punch Finn Collins in the face.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy kicks at some rocks as he mutters under his breath. He had hoped that walking would allow him the opportunity to calm down but he seems to be working himself up more. It is ridiculous. He forces himself to take a few calming breaths. He just needs to keep his mind off of Finn.</p><p> </p><p>“Your Grace!” someone calls from behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy closes his eyes, praying that is not who he thinks it is. He turns slowly and sure enough, Finn Collins is scurrying down the street toward him.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh thank you, Your Grace.” Finn seems out of breath as he stops in front of Bellamy. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy just raises an eyebrow. Honestly, he could care less what Finn has to say but he is still trying to not be a complete ass—though he does not know how long that will last. </p><p> </p><p>“You walk very quickly,” Finn says. “Thank you for waiting for me though.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs. “What can I do for you, Mr. Collins?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, yes. I was hoping that I might talk to you about Miss Griffin?” </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs. “No.” He turns but stops when Finn’s hand lands on his arm. He stares down at it until Finn drops it, laughing nervously. </p><p> </p><p>“I am sorry, Your Grace, but I was hoping that we could reach an agreement.” Finn grins at him. “I was hoping that you might be willing to stop courting Miss Griffin so that I might wed her?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do not believe that the Viscount will allow you to marry his sister—no matter if I stop courting her or not.” Bellamy shakes his head. This man is an idiot. Clarke has made it abundantly clear that she has no desire to marry him and Roan has told him to never come near her again and yet he still speaks of marrying her. Is he dumb or dense?</p><p> </p><p>Finn shrugs as if this does not bother him. “I believe that I can convince Miss Griffin that I am the best choice for her if you would just allow me the chance.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shakes his head with a snort. “No. You do not deserve someone like Miss Griffin, so I will not stop courting her.” With that, he turns back toward his home.</p><p> </p><p>“Is it because you have bedded her?” Finn calls after him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy stops but does not turn around as he clenches his hand into a fist. He must keep his temper under control. “No, Mr. Collins, I have done no such thing.” He glances over his shoulder and glares at the other man. “And if you suggest anything besides that you and I will have a problem.” </p><p> </p><p>With a shake of his head and another deep breath, Bellamy once again tries to leave. There is no way that Finn is stupid enough to say anything else, right?</p><p> </p><p>“But I guess you would like whores would you not? Seeing as your mother was one. We all know the stories about how the duke could not impregnate her, so she whored around until someone was able to get her pregnant. They say that she never even knew who your father was.”</p><p> </p><p>Finn Collins is obviously an idiot.</p><p> </p><p>It is the last coherent thought he has before he allows his anger to overwhelm him. Speaking ill of someone’s dead mother is never a good idea. Speaking ill of his dead mother who had died giving birth to him? The worst possible idea. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy does not say anything as he throws the first punch and still says nothing as he throws the next punch and the next. By the time that he comes back to himself, Finn is unconscious and Bellamy’s hands are bloodied and bruised. </p><p> </p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy bends over and sighs in relief when he finds a pulse. He considers dragging the man somewhere else and then decides against it. He deserves to be robbed or ran over by a carriage. It would take care of a lot of problems if he were trampled. Bellamy shakes his head as he once again heads toward his home and this time no one stops him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke’s eyes scan the crowd once again, reminding herself that no matter the fight that they might have had Bellamy will still be there as promised. She has to believe that he will stand by his word, no matter how angry they were at one another. What will it look like if he does not show up today with all of the ton lining the river for the day? She will be humiliated and their little charade would be up. </p><p> </p><p>“Look who finally decided to make an appearance today,” Lady Diyoza says, her annoyance very clear in her tone. </p><p> </p><p>“I do apologize Lady Diyoza, I was visiting my sister and her husband and lost track of time playing with my nephew,” Bellamy speaks to Lady Diyoza but his eyes are on Clarke. </p><p> </p><p>She had not known that he had a sister nor a nephew. She wonders just how well she knows Bellamy Blake, Duke of Hastings. Heat rises within her as he says hello to her family but continues to keep his eyes locked with hers. She knows that it is all an act but she cannot help the butterflies in her stomach. </p><p> </p><p>“Miss Griffin, you look radiant.” Bellamy lifts her gloved hand to his lips. “Would you care to take a walk with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.” Clarke beams up at him as she is supposed to but also because she wants to. She enjoys his company and that could become a problem. She is going to have to make sure that her heart does not begin to want for something that it can never have. </p><p> </p><p>She allows Bellamy to lead her away from her family and they begin to stroll. They talk as they walk, though their conversation is not about anything really. She places her hand on his arm when she notices a group of gentlemen who have seemingly taken interest in her and Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>“Button my cuff?” she asks as she lets go of his arm and offers her wrist to him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy’s confusion is obvious which she understands. She has changed the subject very suddenly but seeing as she cannot recall what they were speaking of, she does not feel all that bad. “I am sorry. Can I do what?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke moves her hand as she grins up at him. “Button my cuff please.” She leans her head in the direction of the gentlemen. “We have an audience, so I figured we ought to put on a show.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you are getting good at this,” Bellamy smirks as he slowly buttons her cuff.</p><p> </p><p>“Are they looking?” she asks because it would be much too obvious if she looked herself.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy looks up from his task and nods. “They are thoroughly enthralled, Miss Griffin.” His face turns serious very quickly as he lets go of her hand. “That cannot be good.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke spins to see what has drawn his attention only to find none other than Finn Collins rushing over to her family tent. She frowns, not sure what he could be doing. She was sure that he understood that they would not marry.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe we should see what that is all about?” Bellamy suggests as he drops a hand to her lower back to lead her toward the tent.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke has to fight a shiver at his touch, swallowing as she reminds her heart that he is not something that she can have. </p><p> </p><p>“I have procured a special license to wed Miss Clarke Griffin,” Finn says as they arrive at the tent. “Roan, you gave me your word and then backed down. If you refuse me again, I will tell anyone that will listen that I have had her already.”</p><p> </p><p>“But that is a lie,” Clarke cries out. This cannot be happening. </p><p> </p><p>As Finn turns to face her she sees that one of his eyes will not open all the way, his lip is swollen, and she does not think that there is a spot on his face that is not black and blue. But what she notices most of all is the cruel smile that has spread across his lips. He looks smug and sure of himself—he believes that he has won. She cannot keep herself from shivering this time, though this time it is from fear and not from warmth.</p><p> </p><p>“That might be so but who will they believe? Me or you?” Finn laughs as he makes his way over to her. When he reaches out to touch her she flinches away, backing up into Bellamy. Finn frowns but looks up at Bellamy. “I am sorry Your Grace, but you should have just let me have her instead of beating me on the side of the road.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will kill you, Collins,” Roan mutters as he makes his way toward the other man. </p><p> </p><p>Bellamy moves quickly, leaving her side to step in his way. “You do not want to do this right now, Roan.” He waves his hands around them. “Not with all of these people here.”</p><p> </p><p>Roan is seething but he does stop trying to rush at Finn. “This is not over, Collins.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, but it is.” Finn laughs, looking back to Clarke again. “You shall be my wife in three days’ time and there is nothing you can do about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Tears fill Clarke’s eyes because he is right—there is not anything she can do about it. In these situations, the man will always be believed and it would not just be her that would be ruined. This would ruin her whole family which she cannot allow.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Griffin?” Bellamy touches her elbow lightly. “Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke lifts her chin to meet his eyes. She will not allow the tears to fall but she knows that he can see them. “It matters not if I am okay. It would appear that our courtship is over, My Grace. I must marry Finn Collins.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke spins on her heel and hurries away, hearing her family and Bellamy calling after her but she does not stop. She cannot stop. She has to get away and cry or scream or something. They cannot see her like that. They must only see her once she has accepted her fate. Maybe she will walk home, it is a long enough walk that she should tire herself out and she passes some woods that will allow her privacy to let herself scream or cry. </p><p> </p><p>Finn Collins might not be the husband that she wanted, but he is the husband she shall have.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>I have the most scandalous news for you. At last we spoke (metaphorically speaking of course) it appeared Miss Clarke Griffin might be marrying Mr. Finn Collins—though it raised the question of why she would choose Mr. Collins over the duke. Was it for love? We may never know now that Mr. Collins has fled London in shame.</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Collins, as men are wont to do, had an affair with his maid. Scandalous? Only mildly. Sending the lady away before she ever even gave birth. Unforgivable. In our world, men take care of their bastards—no matter who the mother may be. Because of this, it would appear that Miss Griffin shall not be marrying Mr. Collins, so does this mean that she and the duke might still wed? Only time will tell. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy makes his way into the ballroom, eyes already sweeping the crowd. He smiles as his eyes land on her. She looks exquisite as always as she throws her head back, laughing at something Murphy has said to her. He does not know who told Lady Whistledown about Finn’s transgressions but he is eternally grateful to them—obviously only because he did not want Clarke to marry Finn because he is not good enough for her.</p><p> </p><p>He makes his way over to her, blatantly ignoring anyone that calls out to him. He will not be deterred from what he must do. Murphy sees him first, lifting a brow before leaning down to whisper something in his sister’s ear. She turns to face him slowly, eyes narrowed as she watches him approach. If his gait hitches for a moment no one could blame him—it is very obvious that Clarke is unhappy with him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy bows when he reaches her. “Miss Griffin.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your Grace,” she returns shortly.</p><p> </p><p>“I was hoping that you might allow me a dance?” he asks, offering his hand to her.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy watches the clashing emotions cross her face. There is no doubt that she is angry with him but she also knows that he is still her best chance at landing an acceptable husband. She sighs as she lays her hand in his. “It would be my pleasure,” she says but her tone tells him that it is anything but her pleasure.</p><p> </p><p>He leads her out to the dance floor and waits for the music to begin before attempting to speak to her. “I am sorry Miss Griffin,” he says quietly—it costs him much to apologize. There is very little in his life that he will ever apologize for but there is no doubt that he owes her one.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke blinks up at him for a moment as they dance. “I am not sure that I heard you correctly, can you repeat that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You heard what I said,” Bellamy laughs as he shakes his head. “But because I messed up so badly, I shall say it again. I am sorry for my actions as of late—especially in regards to Mr. Collins.”</p><p> </p><p>“I will consider your apology if you will tell me why you behaved as you did.” Clarke leaves no room for argument. If he wants her to forgive him, he must tell her.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs. “I have issues with bullies.” What he does not tell her is that it is because of his father and the way that he had bullied him as he grew up—at least until he gave up completely and just pretended that Bellamy did not exist. “I did not like the way that he treated you nor the words that he spoke to me when we were alone. I could not allow those words to go unpunished.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods slowly, considering him. “This is not a game to me. You know that right?” She shakes her head as he pulls her to him. “This cannot go wrong.”</p><p> </p><p>“I shall make sure that it does not go wrong but I have one condition,” he smirks down at her.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke lifts a brow, obviously suspicious and he cannot blame her. “And what is that condition?” she asks with a sigh.</p><p> </p><p>“You must call me Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>A smile slowly blooms on her face as she nods. “I can do that but that means that you must also call me Clarke.” She pauses. “Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think that I can do that, Clarke,” he says with a laugh as his hand flattens against her lower back. He feels her shiver beneath his touch but does not comment on it. He spins her round and round, both of them laughing together.</p><p> </p><p>They discuss who she could take as a husband and Bellamy barely holds his tongue in telling her that none of them deserve her. He silently slaps himself at the thought. What is he thinking? He cannot be jealous of the man that she will marry as he has no intention of ever marrying himself, therefore he is not an option and should not be jealous. But jealous he is.</p><p> </p><p>“And how many children do you wish to have?” he asks, if only to turn the topic off of the men that she is currently considering—though this is not a topic he cares to discuss, it does seem safer for his sanity.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I do not know.” Clarke shakes her head. “But I think I shall want a large family like my own. We were never lonely growing up and I want that for my own children.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy feels a pain deep in his chest, one that he has ignored for more years than he can count. He had grown up alone and unloved—one of the many reasons that he had sworn to his father that he would be the last in their line. Any children Octavia has will have no chance to inherit the title because neither he nor Octavia would allow it. And he shall never sire children. It is his burden alone to carry which is why he shall never marry. But his heart pangs at the idea of Clarke having children with some faceless man, happy and in love.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shakes his head, berating himself. What does he think that he is doing? He cannot care about Clarke like this—it will only end up hurting them both. He is here for two reasons and two reasons alone: to keep young ladies from throwing themselves at his feet and to help Clarke find a proper husband.</p><p> </p><p>How can he expect to help her find a husband if he is longing for her? He shall find fault in any man that desires her hand if he desires for her. He must stop this and stop it now, or they will both be in trouble. He cannot fall for her because simply put he cannot give her the thing that she desires the most—being a mother.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em> Clarke glides across the floor in Bellamy’s arms to music that only the two of them can hear because they are the only two people here. They pause and Bellamy lifts her arm, though his eyes are firmly locked on hers, and slowly begins to pull her fingers from her glove. He slowly slides the glove down her arm and Clarke is finding it hard to breathe—though she does not know if it is because of the way that he is looking upon her or the idea of him touching her bare skin.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He takes her hand in his, lifting it slowly to his lips—he is kissing the bare skin of her hand and she shivers. His other hand circles her wrist before gliding up her arm. She fights the shiver that threatens but she cannot resist it.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He releases her hand, that arm banding around her waist until he places his palm on her lower back. He pulls her closer, face leaning down toward hers and she knows that she shall have her first kiss with Bellamy. He pauses his lips a millimeter from hers and she wonders what he is waiting for. Why will he not just kiss her? It must be obvious that she wants him too. Then he is leaning down— </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke!” Madi shakes her shoulder just before Clarke jerks up in the bed, breathing hard. “You must have been having the best dream because you were much harder to wake than usual.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke forces herself to take a few deep breaths to calm down before turning to her youngest sister. “I do not recall the dream but I am sorry that it was hard to wake me.</p><p> </p><p>“It is fine. I just did not want you to be late to tea with the duke,” Madi says with a grin as she climbs off the bed. “Maybe you were dreaming of the duke.”</p><p> </p><p>“Doubtful,” Clarke retorts before throwing her blankets back. “Thank you for waking me. I shall dress and then I will be right down. Can you send in Mel?” Clarke asks, referring to her lady’s maid.</p><p> </p><p>Madi makes a face but nods. “Fine but will you come to see me before you leave?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, Madi.” Clarke smiles as she watches her sister head out the door before collapsing onto the edge of the bed. She cannot believe that she dreamed about the duke in that way. She must not. She cannot have him and she knows that but here she is having dreams about kissing him—it is scandalous.</p><p> </p><p>There is a knock on her door moments before Mel sticks her head inside the door. “Madi said you were ready for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, thank you.” Clarke stands slowly and allows Mel to help her get ready for the day. She makes sure to stop and speak with Madi for a few minutes before heading off to have tea. She knows that her youngest brother and sister have felt very left out with all of them attending event after event—well, all of them except Raven who has been doing who knows what, and Charlotte who is off visiting an ill aunt.</p><p> </p><p>Soon enough she finds herself seated across from the duke. He is saying something but she does not know what as she is currently distracted by the spoon that he has brought to his lips. Her mouth falls open slightly as she watches him lick the honey from the spoon until it is clean. She knows that she is breathing heavier than usual and there is a warmth that has spread throughout her body—though much of it seems to be gathering between her legs which she surely does not understand.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay, Clarke?” Bellamy asks.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s eyes snap up to meet his, finding amusement in them. She lips her lips as she nods. “Of course, I am sorry. I did not sleep well last night and just lost track of what you were saying.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Bellamy laughs, “it was nothing of importance.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods slowly, eyes scanning the room. Many of the gentlemen and most of the ladies in the room seem to be watching them. Clarke pastes a smile on her face, pushing away the things that she does not understand. “So, our plan seems to be working well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Does it now? Have you had any more marriage proposals?” Bellamy asks, laughter in his words. The first week that they had begun to pretend that they were courting she had numerous proposals, though none were acceptable. </p><p> </p><p>“No, none yet, but I do believe that there are a few that shall do so soon.” Clarke wonders if her smile looks as forced as it feels. She opens her mouth to speak but pauses at the look on Bellamy’s face. It is gone before she can really understand it but it definitely gives her pause. </p><p> </p><p>She lets her eyes fall shut as she gives herself a firm talking to. She has to stop this now. Her mind knows that Bellamy is not for her and shall never be for her, but her body and her heart? They do not seem to understand. She must always remember that he is unattainable and she must not fall for him. It should be easy enough, right? </p><p> </p><p>She lets her eyes fall open again, knowing that it is not as easy as that. She finds Bellamy staring at her, concern written all over his face. “Are you sure that you are alright, Clarke?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods again. “Yes, Bellamy, thank you.” She loves saying his name. Oh, she is an idiot, she berates herself again. “It is just a bit of a headache, no need to worry.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think we should get you home.” Bellamy frowns as he stands up. “You should not be out if you have a headache.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke tries to think of a way out of him taking her home—she does want to spend the time with him—but she cannot think of a way around it. This is her own fault. She should have thought of a better excuse. </p><p> </p><p>She stands slowly as she nods. “Of course, you are right.”</p><p> </p><p>And maybe it is for the best. Maybe she should avoid spending any more time than necessary with Bellamy Blake because he is a heartbreak waiting to happen.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Is anyone else bubbling with jealousy the way that I am? It has become quite apparent that the Duke of Hastings has fallen head over heels in love with Miss Clarke Griffin. All one has to do is look at the pair of them to see that they are obviously in love. This brings about the question of why there has yet been a proposal of marriage. What is the delay?</p><p> </p><p>Is there something more going on here that we have yet to uncover? It is possible and I can promise you that if there is something to know, I will find it out. And of course, once I find out you, my readers, will be the first to know. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke enters the ballroom on her brother’s arm but her eyes are already scanning the room for Bellamy. It has been but a few days since their date over tea that had ended early and she has not seen him since then. It was her decision not to see him, hoping that it would allow time for her treacherous heart to stop skipping every time that she sees him.</p><p> </p><p>But as her eyes land on him, she knows it was for naught. He glances up as if sensing her, a smile sliding across his lips. He says something to the gentleman he was talking to without ever breaking eye contact with her and then he is moving towards her. She returns his smile while reminding herself that he is not actually hers nor will he ever be.</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke, you look splendid as always,” Bellamy says as he takes her hand and presses a kiss to it. “Would you like to take a walk about the room?”</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Thank you, Bellamy.” Clarke pulls her arm from Roan’s, hearing him grumble under his breath as she slides her arm through Bellamy’s instead. They circle the room making idle small talk. </p><p> </p><p>They pause at the other side of the room near the refreshments table. Bellamy gets each of them a drink and a gentleman approaches just as he returns. Clarke narrows her eyes as she attempts to remember his name. Lord Sanchin she believes.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Griffin.” Lord Sanchin bows to her. “I was hoping that you might grace me with a dance this evening.”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course,” Clarke says with a smile. She lifts her wrist and allows him to add his name to it. </p><p> </p><p>He is just finishing up when Bellamy says loudly, “How long am I expected to put up with other gentlemen vying for your hand, Miss Griffin?”</p><p> </p><p>Lord Sanchin looks between the two of them before bowing slightly and scurrying away. Clarke turns to him, eyes wide.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy frowns. “Too much?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke laughs, head falling back as she does so. “Maybe a bit, but I am probably the only one who noticed.” </p><p> </p><p>“Good.” Bellamy nods. “Shall we dance?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I might need to check my card to make sure that I have room,” she says, pretending to be aloof before laughing. “Yes, let us.”</p><p> </p><p>They make their way out to the dance floor but after their dance Clarke dances with a handful of other gentlemen, though none that catch her eye. If they are handsome they are too dull or too boastful. If their personality is perfect, their looks are far from it. Why must it be so hard to find a husband? It should not be this hard, but then again when she is comparing each of them to the duke how can she ever expect them to compare?</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, Bellamy finds her again, saving her from her boredom. “Thank goodness,” she says as she places her arm in his. “Why must this be so difficult?”</p><p> </p><p>“Was there not an acceptable one out of the bunch?” Bellamy asks.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke shakes her head but before she can respond the queen is announced along with a guest. Clarke frowns, craning her head along with the rest to see the prince of Prussia. She has heard stories of the queen’s nephew but never before has he visited London, at least not that she knows of. </p><p> </p><p>She watches as Josephine Lightbourne and her mama approach the royal pair and Clarke is barely able to hide her laughter, though she does not manage to hide it from Bellamy.</p><p> </p><p>“And what do you find so funny,” he asks her as he turns to face her once more. </p><p> </p><p>“Look at the way she is fluttering about.” Clarke rolls her eyes. “It is all an act to attract the male attention by making them think that she is a helpless woman. That is the way that we are taught to flirt.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy chuckles. “I know the act well.” He nods at the prince. “And the prince is doing what he is trained to do—telling her that her dress looks exquisite.”</p><p> </p><p>They laugh together, only sobering when the queen and prince approach. Clarke drops into a curtsey as Bellamy bows. “Your Majestys.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is the young lady I was telling you about,” Queen Indra says as she gestures to Clarke, completely ignoring Bellamy. “Miss Clarke Griffin, may I introduce you to my nephew Wells, the prince of Prussia.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke once again curtseys. “It is lovely to make your acquaintance, Your Highness.”</p><p> </p><p>Wells lifts her hand to his lips. “And I, yours.” He pauses. “Your dress is quite exquisite.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke tries to hold in her laughter—she really does—but she does not succeed. Not only does she not manage to hold in her laughter but she ends up snorting—something she blames on her attempting to hold in the laughter. Her hands shoot to her mouth as the queen’s eyes widen and Wells gives her a funny look.</p><p> </p><p>“I am so sorry.” She is laughing so hard that tears fill her eyes but she is unable to say anything else as the royals walk away.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that certainly went well,” Bellamy says with a chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke reaches out and slaps at his arm. “This is all your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“It is my fault that you chose to snort? I do not think that I have ever heard such an unladylike sound in my life.” Bellamy shakes his head but he is smiling down at her.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke once again tries to stop herself from laughing, instead pulling another snort from her. </p><p> </p><p>“Or maybe not. That might have been worse,” he says with a laugh as he dodges her poorly aimed slam at his arm.</p><p> </p><p>“You are the worst,” Clarke informs him once she is able to get her laughter under control.</p><p> </p><p>“That may be,” he grants, “and yet you seem to enjoy my company anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke rolls her eyes. “I am beginning to rethink that choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, while you are rethinking it, what do you say? Shall we dance?” Bellamy offers his hand to her.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess,” Clarke draws out but shoots him a smile so that he knows she is not being serious before placing her hand in his and allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. </p><p> </p><p>She knows that she should be embarrassed about what had just happened with the queen and the prince, but she cannot find it in herself to care. This is yet another indication that she must find a suitable husband soon because she is growing much too attached to Bellamy and that simply will not do.</p><p> </p><p>But even as the thought runs through her mind she finds herself laughing at something Bellamy has just said as he twirls her around the dance floor. Nothing to concern herself with—obviously.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy is thankful for a quiet evening free of any events to attend. Yes, he enjoys Clarke’s company and he is glad that Lady Diyoza is happy with him, but dealing with so many people regularly is getting to him. Or at least dealing with so many people from the ton. He waves to Roan when he sees his friend enter the room. </p><p> </p><p>Things have still been somewhat stilted between them since he began to court Clarke—well, pretend to court her. It would have been much simpler if he had found someone else to pretend with but he is glad that was Clarke. He does not know that he would have been able to pull it off with anyone else—even if he has to regularly have a conversation with himself that she is off-limits and he must not allow himself to fall for her. </p><p> </p><p>“Blake.” Roan nods at him as he slumps down in the chair across from him, pouring himself a glassful of scotch from the bottle Bellamy bought when he first arrived. “Has my sister finally allowed you a night to yourself?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy feels himself bristle at Roan’s words, but he knows that is exactly what his friend had intended. Instead, he shrugs. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder or some nonsense,” he says with a wave of his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I still do not understand. You swore that you would never wed and yet here you are courting my sister—obviously with the best of intentions as I know that we are too good of friends for it to be anything but.” Roan watches Bellamy over his glass as he takes a long drink.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.” Bellamy forces a smile. “What can I say? She changes something within me.” It is not even a lie—she makes him want to be a better person, a better man.</p><p> </p><p>Roan wrinkles his nose. “You know what? Let us pretend that I did not ask. I do not wish to hear any more of this.” He gestures in Bellamy’s general direction.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs but lets his friend lead them into other topics. The bottle is about half gone by the time he sees a group of young women enter through a secret entrance—as this is a gentleman’s club women are not allowed, so they are snuck in which allows them the pleasure of women without their wives ever needing to know—at least those that have wives.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy follows Roan’s line of sight when his friend freezes, turning to see Echo talking to a man but her eyes are locked on Roan. Bellamy sighs as he turns back to Roan. Roan, the idiot that he is, had allowed himself to become involved with the beautiful opera singer and stupidly fell in love with her. Their affair has been going on for three or four years with Roan paying for her every desire in exchange for what he swore was the best sex ever. </p><p> </p><p>Then after a fight with his mother—one that he refuses to tell Bellamy anything about which leads him to believe that it was at least in part in regards to him—Roan had broken off the arrangement but he has been miserable ever since. He shakes his head when Roan stands suddenly.</p><p> </p><p>“I think I am going to head home,” he speaks to Bellamy but his eyes never leave Echo. “Thank you for the company, Blake.”</p><p> </p><p>“You too Griffin.” Bellamy shakes his head as he sits back in his chair. He will never understand allowing love to wrap itself so firmly around oneself so much that they are unable to operate. Yet another reason he is glad that he shall never marry. He shall never allow a woman to hold so much sway over him.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello, Your Grace,” a voice practically purrs from behind him.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy turns to find Echo standing there, a provocative smile on her lips. “Roan has left.”</p><p> </p><p>Echo nods. “I am aware. I am not here for him, but for you,” she says as she sits on the arm of his chair. “I had wanted to invite you to my show tomorrow night. I would really love it if you were there.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmmm,” Bellamy murmurs. He knows that she is not inviting him to watch her sing, but to fuck her after the show. She must be on the prowl for a new arrangement now that she no longer has one with Roan. It is not that Bellamy is against it, though he has never been one for a long-term arrangement, which is how he finds himself pondering the idea. At the very least it should distract him from the insistent thoughts of Clarke that he cannot seem to shake. He has an event with her tomorrow but it shall be over by the evening so he should be able to make it.</p><p> </p><p>Echo reaches out to run a finger down his arm as she smirks at him. “I shall make it worth your while.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do not doubt that for a moment,” Bellamy says with a laugh. “I shall try my best to make it.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is all that I can ask for, Your Grace.” </p><p> </p><p>And then she is gone, leaving only the scent of her perfume—a scent more overpowering than he usually likes and so much heavier than the one that Clarke wears. He closes his eyes on a sigh. This is exactly what is meant to be avoiding. Mayhaps he shall attend the opera tomorrow night and take up the lovely Echo on her offer. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The next day Bellamy finds himself standing outside the Somerset House. A new wing has been added and he has donated quite a few pieces from his family’s collection. He sighs as he readies himself to head inside. It is not that he does not care for art—in fact, he quite enjoys it—nor is it that he is dreading Clarke’s company. There are just so many people that will be in attendance that he wants nothing to do with. But such is the life of a duke.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy pastes a smile on his face as he heads inside, eyes scanning—as they always do—for Clarke. He does not see her straightaway, so he makes his way towards the back rooms where there will be fewer people. His eyes land on Roan speaking heatedly with his mother before storming off. He wonders briefly what that might be about before deciding it is none of his business. </p><p> </p><p>He continues to push through the room, nodding to those that greet him. He stops briefly, a smile gracing his lips when his eyes land on Clarke. It is of no surprise to him that she looks beautiful—no, it is more than that. She looks radiant and he feels something tug at his heart but he shoves it down as he sees the prince approach her. </p><p> </p><p>The prince would make her a good husband—honestly, it is the best that she can do—but he has no desire to watch it happen. So he ducks into one of the backrooms, sighing in relief when he finds it empty. This room houses many of the pieces that he donated—most of which he cannot stand. But there is one that draws his eyes, one of his favorite pieces. He has asked himself numerous times why he donated it but he keeps coming back to the fact that it is what his mother would have wanted. She would not have wanted it to be locked away in a house so rarely used. </p><p> </p><p>“That is beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy freezes momentarily as Clarke moves up to stand next to him. Instead of turning to look at her he just nods and keeps his eyes on the painting. “It is.”</p><p> </p><p>He sees Clarke lean forward from the corner of his eye and let out a short laugh. “And I see that it is yet another that you have donated.” She pauses, eyes on the painting before turning to him. “It is quite different than the others you have donated.”</p><p> </p><p>“If Lady Diyoza is to be believed this was my mother’s favorite painting while the others were more to my father’s tastes.” Bellamy does not know why he tells her this but he wants to. He wants her to know him and that is such a bad thing.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I can see that your mama and I would have had much in common,” she comments as she tilts her head for a moment. “It feels like home, does it not?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy scoffs. “It feels nothing like my home.”</p><p> </p><p>“That is sad, Bellamy,” she says as she glances up at him before turning back to the painting. “There is so much warmth, so much love—the artist must have loved this place very much.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy just grunts in response, unable to think of a response. He is too aware of <em> her </em> warmth as she stands beside him with her hands by her side. He feels, more than sees, her hand begins to inch toward his. His eyes squeeze shut as her fingers brush his and he can do nothing but squeeze her hand as warmth fills him. </p><p> </p><p>Why does this fill him with such warmth? Why is he turned on by this barely-there touch of their hands? He has had many women and he has touched many parts of those women and yet none of them have made him feel what this single touch does. He cannot understand it and maybe he does not want to admit what it means. He wonders what Clarke is thinking—what she is feeling. For a young lady, this is a forbidden touch, something that she must never do with a man that is not her husband. He wants to chuckle at the idea but there is nothing funny about this situation.</p><p> </p><p>A sudden gasp causes the pair to break apart. Bellamy’s eyes scan the room, afraid that they have been discovered but no, the sound has come from the larger room. He glances down at Clarke but she will not meet his eyes, her cheeks flushed.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy swallows, eyes widening. Oh, how he wishes things were different because all he wants to do is pull her into his arms and kiss her—well, kiss her first and then ravish her body. He shakes his head as if that will dislodge these thoughts but he knows from experience that they will not. </p><p> </p><p>When Clarke scurries to the other room, Bellamy follows her at a slower pace but comes to a stop just inches behind her. He can feel the warmth radiating off of her and wonders if she can feel what is between them as well—this connection.</p><p> </p><p>No. No. No.</p><p> </p><p>There is no connection. There can be no connection. This is just a farce and he must remember that. </p><p> </p><p>“Josephine fainted,” Clarke says quietly, conspiratorially. “And how well she fainted with not a hair out of place and in just the right spot for the prince to catch her.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy grins as he looks down at her. “It is almost as if she planned it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Almost, but she would never do that.” Clarke barely manages to hold back her laughter as she meets his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>He is so fucked.</p><p> </p><p>Once everything has calmed down Bellamy forces himself to keep a respectable distance between himself and Clarke as they continue through the new wing before bidding her a good evening and heading to his carriage.</p><p> </p><p>“We must hurry, Your Grace, if you wish to make the opera,” his driver says quietly as he opens the door for Bellamy to climb in.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy pauses for a moment, considering. “No, take me home. I do not feel like attending the opera. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs as he sits down on the bench. He probably should go to the opera and take Echo up on her offer to see if he cannot fuck Clarke out of his mind. Yet, he does not want to do that. He just does not think that he can do that right now. Though he will have to rid his mind of her eventually. He can never have her and he must remember that, he must accept that. </p><p> </p><p>He must find a way to not fall any further in love with Clarke Griffin than he already has.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>It is beginning to look like the duke might have some competition for Miss Clarke Griffin’s attention. At the events that Prince Wells of Prussia has attended, he has barely had eyes for any other lady besides the young Miss Griffin. For her part, I am not sure that Miss Griffin has noticed—not when her eyes seem to see nothing but the duke. But if she were to realize would it change her opinion? If she realizes that the prince seems intent on her attention will she pass over the duke for him? Only time shall tell. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke laughs as Bellamy regales her with tales of a misspent youth along with Roan at university. She almost cannot believe the stories with as outlandish as they sound but she also knows her brother which makes her believe that they might be true. They are currently promenading and Clarke knows that she should be using this time to be on the lookout for a husband, but she finds herself too enthralled by Bellamy’s words to think of anything but him. He really is becoming a problem, or more so her feelings for him are becoming a problem. Why her heart cannot understand that he shall never be hers and to stop pining after him, she knows not. </p><p> </p><p>They fall silent as they walk, so comfortable with one another’s company. He points out a group of gentlemen and she just shrugs. What is she supposed to do? Tell him that she has no desire to get to know these men because they will not hold a candle to him? She thinks not.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know that just yesterday my mama told me,” Clarke speaks, trying to get her mind on anything besides Bellamy, “that one should marry their best friend.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs as they come to a stop atop a small wooden bridge. “Are you saying that I should marry your brother?” he asks, raising a brow.</p><p> </p><p>“I should expect not,” Clarke laughs. “But it did get me thinking. Is that what a marriage is all about—friendship?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy considers her for a moment before shrugging. “I would think not, but I think it is a fine place to begin. Though I do not believe that most do. Most marriages that I have witnessed have been more of a battlefield than a friendship.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not my parents.” Clarke shakes her head. “But something more than friendship must hold to a marriage, must it not?”</p><p> </p><p>“You are quite right, Clarke.” Bellamy offers her a rose that he has just plucked from a nearby bush.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke fights to not flush but she thinks that she might not do such a good job of this. “So if it is not just friendship then is it something physical?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs, shaking his head. “I am not having this conversation with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke frowns, not understanding why he would not want to continue this conversation. “My mama will tell me nothing of what a marriage truly is. I think I should not go into marriage completely unprepared. You must tell me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I must do no such thing.” Bellamy turns away from her before gesturing for her to follow him. “I cannot believe that your mamas do not better prepare you for what happens in a marriage.” </p><p> </p><p>They come to a stop a bit away from anyone else, but still within a respectable distance so no one will think that anything untoward is happening. He sighs before telling her, “You are correct that it is something physical.” He glances around again. “Let us just say that it is a continuation of what happens at night.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke frowns again. She knows that he is trying to tell her something but she cannot think what. “What? Sleeping?”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Bellamy scoffs. “Before sleep.” He pauses and must see that she still does not understand because he continues in a low voice, “When you touch yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke knows that she is missing something. What is wrong with touching oneself and what does it have to do with marriage? He is speaking in riddles that she cannot begin to decipher. “Touch myself?” she finally asks.</p><p> </p><p>“You do touch yourself do you not?” He steps closer, voice dropping lower as his eyes are trained on hers. “Between your legs?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s eyes widen and she feels her entire body flush. No lady touches herself between her legs—no one touches her between her legs. What is it that he speaks of? He must be mistaken, must he not?</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Clarke,” her name sounds like both a blessing and a curse on his lips as he leans closer to her ear. “At nighttime when all the lights are out, you can touch yourself. You can touch yourself anywhere that you want that feels good—especially between your legs. You touch and touch until something happens—and trust me, you will know when it happens.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke’s mouth drops open and she feels like she is on fire. She does not know if it is because of his words or his closeness but her body approves of it all. She swallows and tells herself to breathe as he steps away from her with a smirk and then he is gone, leaving her alone to ponder his words.</p><p> </p><p>And ponder them she does. She does not ask her mama, knowing that her mama would not approve. Instead, she goes over and over his words for the rest of the day while her body feels like it is on fire. But finally, she is in bed and the lights are all down. Now she will see what it is that Bellamy was speaking off. She bites her lip, a little afraid—not of touching herself but of what she might feel.</p><p> </p><p>She shakes off the thoughts, running her hands over her body—searching out areas that feel good. The first that she finds is her breasts. Her body is alight as she kneads them over her nightgown, throwing her head back as her fingertips brush over her nipples. She keeps one hand there, enjoying the sensations that are running through her body. </p><p> </p><p>She lets her other hand slide down her stomach and beneath the hem of her nightgown. She sucks in a deep breath as her fingers brush her inner thighs. She feels something warm and heavy in his stomach and between her legs. She does not know what it is but she knows that she likes it.</p><p> </p><p>Her back arches off the bed as her fingers finally brush between her legs. She flushes when her fingers find one spot and something begins to build inside of her as brushes it over and over again. Her stomach tightens and she feels lightheaded. She does not know what is happening but she is sure that this is what Bellamy spoke of. </p><p> </p><p>She thinks of Bellamy—of his hand on her lower back while they danced, just brushing her bare skin, the feel of his hand in hers at the Somerset House, of his giving her the rose—of him telling her to touch herself.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly she cannot breathe, her body locking up as a new feeling rushes through her from head to toe. She collapses against the pillows, panting. Why did mamas not tell their daughters about this? She feels...amazing. Before she can begin to think more about this her eyes grow heavy and she is falling asleep.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy releases a sigh of relief as soon as the door of the carriage closes behind him and Lady Diyoza. </p><p> </p><p>“You act as if spending time with Miss Griffin is such a burden.” Lady Diyoza has a way of making him feel like he is a small child one more. </p><p> </p><p>He shakes his hug and gives her a small smile. “Of course spending time with Miss Griffin is not a burden. In fact, I quite enjoy my time with her.”</p><p> </p><p>Lady Diyoza considers him for a moment. “If that is so then why have you not asked the girl to marry you?”</p><p> </p><p>“I do not need to, nor do I wish to, explain myself to you.” Bellamy sighs. “I love you, you are the closest thing I have to family besides Octavia. But I am a grown man who does not have to explain his decisions to you.”</p><p> </p><p>Lady Diyoza throws her head back as she lets out a hearty laugh. Bellamy frowns, unsure of why she is laughing. He rolls his eyes, choosing to look out the window until she calms down.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, my dear boy,” Lady Diyoza says and there is still a hint of laughter in her voice, “you are far from grown. That much I can promise you.” </p><p> </p><p>“I-” Bellamy starts to say but she cuts him off.</p><p> </p><p>“Think what you may, I care not—as you obviously care not of my thoughts. But hear me on this—that girl? She deserves the best and I think you agree.” She pauses waiting for him to nod. “I am glad that we agree on that at least. So I will ask you, do you plan to propose marriage?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy cannot meet her eye as he shrugs. He cannot tell her no because then their ploy would be up but he does not care to lie to her. </p><p> </p><p>“You dumb man,” Lady Diyoza bites out. “Fine, keep your pride, I care not. But if you have no intention of marrying that girl you need to let her go. The Prince seems to be quite taken by her and I think that he would not hesitate to propose marriage to her.” She hits his knee so that he turns to face her. “Do you hear me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I hear you,” he bites out before turning his attention back out the window. He does not want to have this conversation. He has never wanted to have this conversation and it is a conversation that he never thought he would have. How has he gotten himself into a situation where he must choose whether to propose or let someone go. He should not have allowed this to happen. He does not know what he was thinking.</p><p> </p><p>“Good,” Lady Diyoza mutters.</p><p> </p><p>They do not speak again until they arrive at her home and even then it is just a quick goodbye. He can tell that she is disappointed in him—which hurts him more than he would like to admit—but he cannot do what she wants him to do. </p><p> </p><p>What many in the ton do not know is that Lady Diyoza raised him when his father wanted nothing to do with him. His father, a cruel man, had told Bellamy when he was but five that he was worthless because he had a speech impediment. Instead of getting his son’s help to move past it, he had decided that Bellamy was a waste of his time. He lived at Clyvedon in the country while his father lived in London. They had nothing to do with one another.</p><p> </p><p>Until Lady Diyoza, a close friend of his mother’s, appeared at the door because she had been unsure if he were alive or dead. She is the one that had helped him get over his speech impediment and taught him what it meant to be a duke. He will be eternally grateful to her for taking the time to make sure that he grew into a good man, but even she cannot tell him how to live his life.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tries to sleep when he gets home but he cannot. He cannot seem to move past the words that Lady Diyoza had said to him. He certainly did not want to let Clarke go as he has grown to care for her so much more than he should but he also understands what she said. He has no plans to wed and Clarke wants a husband—a family. He can give her neither of those things so he shall have to let her go.</p><p> </p><p>Though the decision is made he still wrestles with it for the rest of the night, barely able to sleep, and the little sleep he does get is restless. Crawling from his bed in the morning is next to impossible but he does it because he has a date for tea with Clarke that he must attend so that he can tell her that he is leaving—because that is the decision he has made.</p><p> </p><p>He understands that he must let Clarke go so that she can find herself a husband but he also knows that he cannot stay and watch it happen. So he will leave London. He does not know yet where he will go but it will be somewhere far, far, far away from London—from Clarke.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy decides to walk to meet Clarke, hoping that the fresh air and physical activity will clear his mind. He slows when he sees her waiting outside, eyes scanning the roads for him. His heart skips a beat at how beautiful she looks but he shakes his head. It matters not how he feels about her. The only thing that matters is that he let her go. </p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” Clarke says with a smile, waving when her eyes land on him.</p><p> </p><p>He steels himself as he crosses the road to her. He can do this. </p><p> </p><p>“I was beginning to think that you were not coming,” Clarke continues as she turns to head inside. “It is quite busy inside but I do believe that there might still be a table.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clarke,” he says sharply, wincing when she turns back to him hurt written all over her face. “I am leaving.”</p><p> </p><p>“Leaving? What do you mean? You just got here.” She frowns, her confusion obvious.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy shakes his head. “No, I am leaving London.”</p><p> </p><p>“But...I do not understand.” She shakes her head. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy barely manages to hold in his sigh. “My business in London is complete,” he begins, which is a complete lie. “Not that it is any of your business. Nothing is keeping me here, so I shall be on my way.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought we were friends,” she says, reaching out to lay her hand on his arm.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy jerks his arm out of reach. “Well, then you were mistaken. You and I were never friends. We were two people who needed one another. Now that I am leaving I am no longer in need of your services. And I do not believe that you require mine anymore either. The prince seems quite taken with you, so you will get to be a princess. I am sure that he shall make you quite happy.”</p><p> </p><p>Each word he speaks is another dagger to his heart. The tears in Clarke’s eyes, the hurt and confusion written all over her face tear at him but he shall remain strong. This must be done, no matter how much it hurts. </p><p> </p><p>“Bellamy,” Clarke begins.</p><p> </p><p>“There is nothing else that needs to be said, Miss Griffin. I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your Season.” Bellamy does not wait for a response before turning on his heel and hurrying away.</p><p> </p><p>He has done what needs to be done and he cannot believe that he allowed himself to believe for even one moment that this could end any way besides this way. Now he shall make sure that all of his business is wrapped up so that he can leave London. It is for the best.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke takes a moment to steady herself before they enter the ballroom. She squeezes her eyes shut, pushing down all of the turmoil and pain that have made a home inside of her ever since Bellamy had told her that he was leaving London the day before. He had told her that they were not friends—which she does not believe for a moment—and that she should set her sights on the prince. Well, if that is what he wants her to do then that is what she shall do. And why not? A prince will always be better than a duke. Wells is handsome and he has been kind during their conversations. He is the obvious choice—if only she could forget the arrogant duke who has managed to sneak his way into her heart.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay, dear?” Abby asks her as she places a hand on Clarke’s arm.</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods as she opens her eyes. She had fallen apart in her mama’s arms while she had prepared for the ball tonight and told her about the duke—about their agreement, about his leaving, everything. Abby had held her until the tears had stopped and then asked her what she wanted to do. Clarke had looked her in the eye with a new resolve and told her that she was going to marry a prince.</p><p> </p><p>“I am fine, Mama. Thank you.” She lifts her head, pasting a smile on her face as she steps through the doors. Her eyes sweep the room as she and her mama are announced. Wells is speaking to Josephine but quickly cuts off the conversation as his eyes fall on her. His eyes tell her that she is the most beautiful woman that he has ever seen and it does nothing for her. She wishes that she felt even a tug at her heart but she feels nothing—but that is okay. She knows that she will be able to love him with time.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes continue to scan the room, landing on Bellamy. She has to fight to keep her smile in place. She had not expected him to be here, after all, he had told her he was leaving. But maybe that is a good thing—he can see her and the prince. </p><p> </p><p>Wells appears at the bottom of the stairs as she reaches them and she curtseys. “Miss Griffin, you are spectacular. Please tell me that you will dance with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke knows that all eyes are on her—including Bellamy’s—as she smiles and nods. “Of course, Your Highness, it would be my pleasure.” She begins to close her fan but lets it go—though of course, it will look like it had been an accident. Her eyes meet Bellamy’s as Wells kneels to pick it up for her. Her smile becomes a smirk and she hopes that he can feel how much she hates him—hates him for what he said, for what he did to them.</p><p> </p><p>“Here you are, Miss Griffin,” Wells says as he hands her the fan while still down on one knee.</p><p> </p><p>She takes it from him and flutters her eyelashes, knowing that all eyes are on her. She is the envy of every young lady in attendance here and desired by all of the men in attendance—though, apparently not Bellamy. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She takes it from him before turning back to her mama and giving it to her. </p><p> </p><p>Abby takes it but there is a question in her eyes—is Clarke sure? Clarke does not bother to try and answer that because of course, she is not but what choice does she have? She turns back to Wells, a smile firmly in place as she places her hand in his and allows him to lead her to the dance floor. From the corner of her eye, she sees Bellamy stalking from the room. </p><p> </p><p>Good.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>There appears to have been a change in Miss Clarke Griffin’s affections. Miss Griffin has been spending more and more time with Prince Wells instead of with Duke Bellamy Blake. Why do we think this is? Was there a disagreement between the two? Or did Miss Griffin just realize that a prince is better than a duke?</p><p> </p><p>If this is the case, no one can blame the young Miss Griffin. While both men would make a suitable husband, who would you rather marry—a prince or a duke? The answer to this question is easy to come to. Now we just have to wonder if the duke will be attempting to win back Miss Griffin’s affection. Only time will tell. Until then.</p><p> </p><p>Lady Whistledown</p></div></div><hr/><p> </p><p>Clarke keeps her head held high as she and Abby walk down the hallway of the palace. As they walk she can hear hushed conversations about herself though she tries her best to not let it get to her. She knows what they speak of—the seemingly sudden change of her affections from the duke to the prince. Many people believe that it is just about status but she cares not what they think.</p><p> </p><p>The duke had never been a real possibility—no matter how stupidly she had allowed herself to believe and their ploy had always been about finding her a husband. And Wells would make a fine husband and she would have a title. What fault could be found in that? </p><p> </p><p>Clarke bites the inside of her cheek as she repeats this over and over to herself. She is lucky to have the prince’s attention. She has a chance of becoming a princess, she should be happy with the turn of events. She just wishes she could convince herself of that instead of nursing a broken heart and hurt pride.</p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head as they stand to the side of the room awaiting the arrival of the queen and her nephew. No one speaks to them—not that she had expected that they would—and they do not seek out anyone to speak with. They are there on the invitation of the prince but that does not make them worthy of the attention of the other attendees—at least in their eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Luckily they do not have to wait long for the queen and the prince to appear, sweeping into the room and immediately commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Wells’s eyes scan the room until they land on her and then his face lights up as he quickly makes his way over to her. </p><p> </p><p>“Miss Griffin.” He nods as both Clarke and her mama curtsey. “I am so glad that you accepted my invitation.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke looks up at him from under her eyelashes as she smiles—well, she fakes a smile but she is sure that he cannot tell. “How could I ever refuse an invitation to the palace from the prince? It is truly my pleasure to be here and be in your presence.”</p><p> </p><p>Queen Indra stands just behind her nephew, a satisfied smile on her face. Ever since she had introduced Prince Wells to Clarke the queen has been pushing for the two to court and she has not tried to hide this fact. Clarke is sure that she is very pleased that Clarke has turned her attention to Wells—no one needs to tell her it is because Bellamy spurned her. </p><p> </p><p>“What about the gift?” Queen Indra asks and the prince nods quickly, turning and snapping his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>A servant hurries over and hands him a box. He turns to face Clarke with a smile. “This made me think of you, so I had to get it for you.” Wells lifts the lid to the box and inside is an exquisite diamond necklace that has to be worth more than all of her other jewelry combined.</p><p> </p><p>“I...I do not know what to say.” Clarke blinks at the box before looking up at Wells. “It is beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” Wells returns and Clarke wishes for butterflies, for warmth, for anything at his words but she feels nothing. “May I put it on for you?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke nods. “Of course, I would love that.”</p><p> </p><p>Wells pulls the necklace from the box and moves to stand behind her. She moves her hair to the side to give him better access to her neck. Her eyes fall shut as he places the necklace on her and she feels his fingers on her neck—except that she is thinking of other hands that she wishes were touching her and it sends a whirlwind of feelings through her. </p><p> </p><p>If he were here what would he do? Would he lean close so that she could feel his breath on her neck? Would his fingers linger just a touch too long? Would he stand just a bit too close? Would his breathing be hitched and his fingers shaking?</p><p> </p><p>“A beautiful necklace for an even more beautiful woman.” Wells’s voice pulls her from her thoughts, her hand going to the necklace. It really is beautiful and it is too much but she cannot tell him that.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Your Highness, it is truly the most thoughtful gift anyone has given me,” she says as she turns around so that he can see her smile. But her words are a lie. The most thoughtful gift was the gift given to her without thought—the rose that lays between the pages of one of her books as it dries.</p><p> </p><p>She just hopes that one day she will be able to stop comparing the prince to the duke.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Bellamy swings over and over at the punching bag, harder than he needs to but he needs to let off some steam and this is the best way that he knows how. Sweat runs down his neck and his back, some even drips from his forehead into his eyes. He has been at this for at least an hour and he still does not feel any better. This has always been his choice of stress relief and yet he feels no relief. Why does he feel no relief?</p><p> </p><p>“If you would like something that hits back, I am free,” Lincoln calls out, pulling Bellamy from his thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy laughs with no humor. “I do not think trying to hit anything with a pulse is a good idea today.”</p><p> </p><p>“What has made you so upset, dear brother?” Octavia asks from the doorway. “Could it possibly be that Miss Clarke Griffin is now being courted by Prince Wells of Prussia?”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy tenses at the mention of Clarke and then mentally berates himself because he does not doubt that both Lincoln and Octavia picked up on it. His sister has always been observant and Lincoln has to be in his profession. </p><p> </p><p>“From what I have heard it was your choice to end things with Clarke.” Octavia arches a brow as she moves toward the two men. “So why are you so upset?”</p><p> </p><p>There is an edge to Octavia’s words, almost as if she is enjoying this. He shakes his head. He loves his sister, he really does. She is six years his junior and he had not known about her until he was about fourteen. Her mother had died and her father—Bellamy’s father—refused to take her. After all, she was not only a bastard but a girl. Lady Diyoza took her in and raised both of them. He only had a few years with her but they are close enough that she knows which buttons to press.</p><p> </p><p>Rather than reply to his sister’s taunts, he turns back to Lincoln. “I am going to miss your fight tomorrow, I am leaving London in the morning.”</p><p> </p><p>“You cannot do that Bellamy,” Octavia roars as she rushes over, hand on her very pregnant stomach. “Tomorrow’s fight is going to be a make or break fight. If you are not there no one will take him seriously. You cannot leave Bellamy.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy sighs, running his hand over his face before meeting Lincoln’s eyes—eyes that are pleading with him. Bellamy knows that Lincoln is too proud to take money from him—he has tried to give his sister and husband money before and they had refused—so if this is a way to help them financially without giving them money he knows he has to be there.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess staying an extra day will not hurt anything.” Bellamy just really needs to be gone by the last after tomorrow because if he is in town Lady Diyoza will want him to come to the ball with her and he cannot. He cannot face Clarke while she is being courted by the prince. He knows he should be happy for her but he is having a very hard time doing so.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, in that case, maybe you can fill me in on what happened between you and Clarke,” Octavia says with a wicked grin.</p><p> </p><p>“I will do no such thing, sister, so you can drop it.” Bellamy turns back to the punching back, intent on continue pummeling the hell out of it until he feels better.</p><p> </p><p>He hears Octavia sigh deeply behind. “Bellamy, in all seriousness, it is obvious that you truly care for her, so why did you end things?”</p><p> </p><p>“Leave it, O. Just leave it.” Bellamy begins throwing punches at the bag once more.</p><p> </p><p>“Let it be, O,” he hears Lincoln murmur. “He will talk about it when he is ready.”</p><p> </p><p>Bellamy scoffs. He will never be ready to discuss it because there is nothing to discuss. Nothing at all.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“You must never mention this to Mama,” Roan mutters as he leads her through the crowd, “she will have my hide.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke laughs, knowing that he is correct. When she had received the invitation from the prince to attend the boxing match she had been surprised. Generally speaking, boxing is not a sport for ladies—though with three older brothers she has seen plenty of boxing matches. With that being said, she knows that her mama would not approve.</p><p> </p><p>“My lips are sealed.” She cranes her neck, trying to locate Wells. “Do you see the prince?”</p><p> </p><p>Roan looks around for a moment before nodding. “I do. Come, I will take you to him.”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke stays close to Roan as he leads her through the room until finally they are standing beside the ring and the prince is directly in front of them. Roan bows and Clarke curtseys.</p><p> </p><p>“I am so glad that you came, Clarke.” Wells has eyes for no one but her as he speaks. “Shall I find us some seats?”</p><p> </p><p>Clarke takes his offered arm, waving to Roan as the prince leads her away. Once they are seated he turns to her with a smile, “I am so glad that you came—I was not sure that you would. I know that boxing is not something most women want to see.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have three brothers, Your Majesty, a little bit of blood does not bother me.” Clarke grins up at him before turning to scan the room. Her eyes land on Bellamy and she freezes. He should not be here. He said he was leaving, so why is he still here?</p><p> </p><p>He is talking to one of the boxers and does not immediately see her. But as he steps down from the ringside as the bell rings to begin the fight, his eyes lock with hers. She cannot bring herself to look away. She has missed him. It has not even been that long and yet, she still misses him. She hates this—she hates him.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you quite alright, Miss Griffin?” Wells questions.</p><p> </p><p>It takes more effort than she would like to admit for her to tear her eyes away from Bellamy’s but she does manage it. “I am just fine, thank you. I am just very excited for the match.” She jumps up to cheer when one of the fighters lands a good punch. </p><p> </p><p>For the rest of the match, she refuses to look in Bellamy’s direction but she can feel his eyes on her. He must not know how affected she is by his presence. She chats with Wells—no, she flirts with Wells—and she hopes that it makes Bellamy’s blood boil with jealousy. </p><p> </p><p>Once the fight has ended—Bellamy’s fighter is the winner—she tells herself not to look for him but she cannot seem to stop herself. When their eyes lock she forgets for a moment how to breathe and it is like everyone else in the room disappears. Is this what it is like to love someone? She certainly hopes not because she knows that she shall never have him.</p><p> </p><p>Someone bumps into her and breaks the spell. When she looks back up he is gone and she thinks that might be for the best. She allows the prince to lead her to her brother and before she leaves she agrees to allow him the first dance at the ball that they shall both attend the following evening. </p><p> </p><p>And if her eyes happen to scan the room once more it is only to see if she sees any of her other brothers—it most definitely is not to try to see if she can find Bellamy once more (she cannot). As Roan leads her to their carriage she hopes that Bellamy does not plan to be at the ball tomorrow. He said he was leaving and now he needs to leave—she cannot deal with his presence much longer.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>It would appear that the Duke of Hastings is set to depart London before the end of the Season. According to my sources, he is claiming that it is due to his business being concluded but it makes one wonder if it might not have something to do with the young Miss Clarke Griffin. After all, the pair were courting and seemed to be on the verge of a proposal—even after the Mr. Collins fiasco. Could this sudden departure have something to do with Miss Griffin’s sudden courtship with the prince? Did the duke and Miss Griffin have a falling out and is that what led her to begin a courtship with the prince and the duke to abandon London? I guess there are only two people who can answer that question and neither of them seems to be willing to discuss it. But not to worry, dear readers, I will do what I can to find answers for you. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy steps into the club, eyes quickly scanning the room for Roan. He is easy enough to find at a table in the corner, sipping on his whiskey as usual. Bellamy straightens his jacket before making his way over. He is not sure what to expect of his interaction with Roan seeing as he had been courting Clarke just days before—although Roan had never approved of that, so maybe he shall be happy to find that Clarke has moved on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not that it matters seeing as he is leaving London. This meeting is just so that he can say goodbye to his friend. “Roan.” Bellamy nods his greeting as he sits across from his friend. “Are we celebrating? Brooding?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan frowns. “I do not brood.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, sir, you do in fact brood. I think that brooding might be your natural state of being.” Bellamy laughs as he reaches over to pour himself a whiskey. “I do not know if you have heard, but I am leaving London.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It might have been mentioned to me in passing. Why the sudden departure? It was my understanding that you were enjoying the Season and courting my dear sister.” Roan shoots him a pointed look.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not answer right away, lifting the glass to his lips as he considers his answer. Obviously, he shall not be revealing that his and Clarke’s courtship had been a farce. And he certainly will not tell his friend that he has fallen completely head over heels in love with Clarke—because nothing can come of it, so what does it matter?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think that we can both agree that it is in everyone’s best interest that I depart London, leaving your sister in the very capable hands of Prince Wells,” is what he finally decides upon. It is not a lie, though it does turn his stomach to say it. He does not wish for Clarke and Wells to marry but it would be selfish of him to say that out loud seeing as he has no intention of marrying her himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan watches him for a moment before nodding. “I agree, it is for the best. You have never wished to marry and I do think that you would make a poor husband because of that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at Roan. They are friends who have always been brutally honest with one another but Roan’s words hurt him more than he would like to admit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are quite correct,” Bellamy replies before sipping at his drink once more. “Clarke deserves someone who will give her everything that she deserves. I am sure that the prince will do that and more.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The words feel like a dagger to his heart but he also knows that there is truth to them. He can never give anyone children and Clarke wants for nothing more than to be a mother. And what a mother she will be—and wife.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy shakes his head to keep his thoughts from going there—Clarke naked in his bed, it is a scene that regularly appears in his dreams. He clears his throat even as he wishes that he could give Clarke everything that she desires—that he could be everything she wants. But for that damned vow that he made to his father—the one that he intends to keep no matter what, even if it means that he shall be alone and miserable for the rest of his life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excuse me, Viscount?” Bellamy and Roan both turn to find Prince Wells making his way to their table. He nods a greeting to Bellamy before turning to face Roan. “I was hoping that I might bother you for a moment of your time?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Roan says, turning his attention to Bellamy. “I shall be back shortly, my friend.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy nods as he watches them walk away. There is no doubt in his mind what the prince is approaching Roan about. He plans to propose to Clarke. He clenches his jaw to keep himself from doing something stupid—though what that might be, he does not know. But he knows that it would be something beyond stupid because that is what Clarke does to him—makes him stupid. Makes him want to be different, to break promises that he has made with a purpose. Which is why he must leave London as soon as possible. Now that Lincoln’s boxing match is done and he has said his goodbyes, nothing is keeping him here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He will leave London tonight before anything can tempt him to stay.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke plays mindlessly, a song that she herself has written—it is a haunting tune full of heartache and desire. She most certainly had not written it following Bellamy’s statement that the two of them were not and never had been friends. She hates that she still thinks of him—that he is never far from her thoughts. Why must he plague her so?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knows that her mama is worried about her, even now her eyes watch Clarke as she plays the piano. Clarke guesses that it is her own fault for once again playing this song but it is easier to put what she feels into music than into words. There is not much that she can do to alleviate her mama’s worries because she herself is worried—worried that she will never get over Bellamy and that she will never feel for Wells what she feels for Bellamy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can you not play something happier?” Raven asks as she sits on the bench beside Clarke. “Should you not wish to play nothing but happy tunes with how well your courtship with the prince is going?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke just manages to not smash her hands down on the piano. Instead, she stills them as she turns to her sister. “Just because I enjoy a particular piece does not mean that it is reminiscent of my mood, dear sister. I wrote this piece and I like the way it sounds and I like the way it plays. It is as simple as that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Raven replies, nodding her head slowly. It is quite apparent that her sister does not believe her and she should not because her words are lies. But she would prefer that her sister not realize this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby sets her embroidery to the side before she stands and walks over to join her daughters at the piano. “I have been meaning to ask you, Clarke, is there something that we should maybe discuss?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes narrow slightly as she turns to face her mama. “I know not what you speak of, Mama.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is that so?” Abby asks as she raises an eyebrow. “So your brother did not bring you to a boxing match?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh,” Clarke mutters as Raven snickers beside her. She elbows her sister as she shrugs. “The prince invited me, what was I to say, Mama? I could not deny his request for my presence.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby nods. “That is true and do not worry, dear, it is not you that I wish to give a piece of my mind to. That honor belongs to your brother who will hear all of my thoughts once he decides to grace us with his presence.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke barely conceals her grimace. She had sworn to Roan that she would not tell their mama that he had escorted her to the match but he had not said anything about what she should do if their mama found out on her own. She feels bad for her brother as she has had to deal with a tongue lashing from their mama before and it is never pleasant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The door to the sitting room flies open and there is the brother in question. Roan rushes over to them, holding up a hand when Abby opens her mouth to speak. “You can give me a tongue lashing in a moment. First, I must share some information. I was just at the club when Prince Wells approached me and asked for a private audience.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He did?” Abby demands, eyes wide. “And what did the prince have to say?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan grins. “He asked me if he might be able to ask for Clarke’s hand in marriage.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke forces herself to smile because this news should make her happy and not cause a knot in her stomach as it does. This should be the happiest of days for her but all she wants to do is run to her room and hide. “And how did you answer him, dearest brother?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan laughs as he turns to face her once more. “I told him that I have learned my lesson and that I would never think to agree to a marriage on your behalf ever again. But I did tell him that I would approve of such a match.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you hear that Clarke?” Abby reaches down to grab Clarke’s hands in hers and squeezes them as excitement radiates from her. “The prince shall be proposing to you. You shall be a princess.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Congratulations, Clarke...I guess,” Raven mutters as she shakes her head. “Is this what you want?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, of course, it is what she wants. What kind of question is that, Raven?” Abby frowns as her attention moves to Raven. “It is the best possible match that she could make.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Exactly. I am very happy to hear this news and I cannot wait to agree to marry the prince,” Clarke says as she forces a smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She does not wish to marry Wells for one reason and one reason only—he is not and will never be Bellamy. But she will do what she must and accept his proposal, setting up her sisters to have the best possible matches when it comes time for them to marry. She will do this because it is her duty and she will learn to bury the hurt and pain, the love that she has for Bellamy. She will learn to love Wells—she must.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>I have some wonderful news that I must share. It would appear that Prince Wells has every intention of proposing to Miss Clarke Griffin after their short courtship. I can only imagine how ecstatic the young Miss Griffin and her family are at this news. What a rise in society this marriage will afford them. Miss Griffin shall have a title of her own, Princess of Prussia. What more could one ask for? Once the question has been asked I will make sure that you, my readers, are in the know. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sits in front of her vanity, the necklace that the prince had gifted her in her hands. She must wear it tonight because she is sure that he will ask for her hand at the ball and he will be pleased to see the necklace upon her neck—of this she has no doubts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No, all of her doubts stem from the uncertainty of her ability to answer his proposal in the way that she knows that she must. She had always hoped to marry for love but with that no longer an option, Prince Wells is a good and safe choice. She will be a princess and she knows that Wells prefers London to Prussia, so she will not need to worry about being too far from her family—at least not for long periods of time. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And yet, the idea of accepting his proposal makes her feel sick to her stomach. Every part of her rejects the idea of marrying him, of becoming his wife. She squeezes her eyes shut as she reminds herself to just breathe. This is what must happen and she has accepted that—for the most part. Though she knows deep down there is a small part of her that hopes that Bellamy will change his mind and show up to demand that she marry him instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke understands that this is just a fantasy and shall never be a reality, but that small part of her cannot seem to be quieted. And she hates that—and herself a small amount. She steels herself, reminding herself why she must do this as she straightens her shoulders. She breathes in and out once before opening her eyes and lifting the necklace to her neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Would you care for some assistance, Clarke?” Abby asks from the doorway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets her eyes find her mama in the mirror. She had not heard her mama approach but she is not surprised by this fact—she has been lost in her own thoughts since the moment that Roan had announced the prince's intentions to propose. “Yes, Mama, thank you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby steps into the room and standing behind Clarke she takes the ends of the necklace from her before she latches the clasp. Clarke lets her hand rest on the necklace—it really is beautiful and was such a thoughtful gift. She just wishes that it had come from a different gentleman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby meets her eyes in the mirror. “Are you sure that you wish to wear the necklace tonight? What will the duke think if he sees you wearing it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I care not what the duke thinks of me wearing the necklace,” Clarke informs her as she lets her hand fall back to her lap. Her words are lies but she will keep saying them until she believes them. She must.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby is quiet for a moment before she squeezes Clarke’s shoulder lightly. “There was something between you and the duke. I saw it and I know that I did not imagine it. It was not one-sided, Clarke. The duke cares for you, of that I am certain.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke laughs, a soft and bitter sound as her heart feels like it is breaking. “The duke made it abundantly clear that he did not care for me when he called off our fake courtship. He made it clear that I was no more than a means to an end for him and that we were not even friends. Those were his words—not mine—and why would he have said them if he did not mean them, Mama?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe he wanted to protect his heart?” Abby suggests.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“From what?” Clarke demands, refusing to allow herself to cry over Bellamy again. “He has said from the beginning that he has no intention of ever marrying. If he cares for me it would be as friends and he made it perfectly clear that we were not even that.” She shakes her head. “Mama, I cannot allow myself to question his words. I cannot bear it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Abby says hurriedly. “I do not know what I speak of. I just worry about you. That is all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nods. “I understand but you need not worry about me, Mama. I will be just fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course you will.” Abby begins to fuss with Clarke’s hair. “You will be perfectly happy with the prince.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, I will,” Clarke says and the words ring false to her own ears. But she must find a way to believe them because this is her life now. That is how this all works, is it not? It must be because otherwise, she does not know how she will survive.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy steps into the sitting room to find Lady Diyoza waiting for him, her eyes scanning the boxes scattered about as the staff works quickly to pack up all of his belongings. “Lady Diyoza?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lady Diyoza turns to him, eyebrow lifted. “So you really do intend to leave?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, of course, I intend to leave. That is what I said, is it not?” Bellamy has no idea what she is going on about. He had told her that he would be leaving London, so why is she questioning it?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She lets out a deep sigh. “Honestly, I had hoped that you had changed your mind.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And whatever would give you that idea?” he demands. Sometimes he really does swear that women speak in riddles. Or is it just that he does not wish to know what it is she speaks of?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I had hoped that upon hearing about the prince’s intentions to propose to Miss Griffin you would realize what a mistake you are making.” Lady Diyoza lays a hand on his arm. “I know that you care for the girl.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are mistaken,” he says, anger lacing his voice as he yanks his hand from her grasp. “I do not know how many times I must tell you that I have no intention of ever marrying. Miss Griffin was just a distraction while I was in London. When you pointed out what I could be holding her back from with the prince, I realized my mistake and corrected it. I am happy for Miss Griffin and the prince.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lady Diyoza watches him with narrowed eyes. “You are a terrible liar, Your Grace—you have been since you were a child. But I do not know if you are just lying just to me or if you are also lying to yourself.” She shakes her head. “Well, it is apparent that your mind has been made up, so I will not waste my breath trying to change it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you for that.” Bellamy sighs. “I would rather we not leave like this—with you angry with me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her face softens as she reaches up to cup his cheek in her hand. “Bellamy, just because I might not agree with your decisions does not mean that it would ever break what is between us. I will always be here for you, for anything that you might need. You must know that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy gives her a soft smile as he lays his hand atop hers. “I do know that and thank you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you know where you will go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy shakes his head. “Not just yet but as soon as I know I will send word to you so that you will not have to worry too much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lady Diyoza laughs. “I will always worry when you are out of sight. I know you too well—I know how much you enjoy taking chances that you need not take. But please do let me know where you end up. And promise that it will not be years before you visit me again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I will do my very best.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lady Diyoza nods slowly. “I do see that the staff is still getting everything packed up. Are you sure that I cannot convince you to accompany me to tonight’s ball since you will still be in town?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I will not be attending the ball. My time spent at social events is over for this Season,” he tells her and it is his attention that he never return for another Season. As for tonight, he cannot go to the ball because he is afraid of what he would do if he were to lay eyes on Clarke. He cannot trust himself around her anymore. He might do something idiotic like confess his love to her and that will do neither of them any good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I understand. Travel safe and know that I will be thinking of you always.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Goodbye, my lady. I shall miss you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I, you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy watches as she leaves before running a hand down his face. He will miss her—he always does when he is away—but he must leave London as soon as possible. Which means he needs to check on the status of the packing. He heads towards the front room to seek out Jeffries.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stops suddenly, eyes falling to a painting that one of the servants is working on packing. He frowns before turning to find Jeffries coming towards him. “What is this painting doing here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jeffries must hear the annoyance in his words as he hurries over to take a look at the painting in question. “You had asked that we contact Somerset House to see about getting it back. It was not easy but I was able to procure it back.” He pauses. “Is that not what you wanted?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy shakes his head. How had he forgotten his request following his moment with Clarke in front of the painting that his mother had loved so much? When he had deluded himself into thinking that there could be something between him and Clarke. How had he ever let himself think such a thing?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, you are correct,” Bellamy says as he forces a smile. “My head is just all over the place. How much longer until everything will be ready to go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We should be ready to go by tomorrow afternoon, Your Grace.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excellent.” A second later he adds on, “Thank you, Jeffries.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is my pleasure, Your Grace.” Jeffries bows his head before hurrying off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy needs to get out of this godforsaken city as soon as possible. He is losing his mind. He had hoped to be able to leave tonight so that his jumbled thoughts about Clarke could not cause him to do something that they would all regret. But luck has not been on his side so far. He just needs to last until tomorrow afternoon and then Clarke will be nothing but a memory.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or at least that is what he tells himself—though he knows deep down that he is lying to himself.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Tonight is an event that no one in the ton wishes to miss. It has been said that the recently widowed Lady Bois has spent much time and effort on this event. An event that is sure to be decadent as she has an excess of money and no man to help her manage it. I believe that the lady is courting scandal with an event such as this. Perhaps this is her plan but I will warn all of the young ladies that shall be in attendance to remember what scandal can do to you and your family. Do not allow temptation to take hold and lead you into behavior that is unbecoming of someone of your rank. Do not allow a moment of weakness to take from you all that might one day be yours. You must remain vigilant. But I assure you that I will keep my readers apprised of any such events that might occur. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes are wide as she steps into the ballroom of Lady Bois’s home. Everywhere she looks she finds something that is just this side of scandalous. One glance at Abby’s face tells her that if it were up to her mama they would not be here tonight—proposal or not. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Should I fetch some drinks?” Roan asks them, though he does not look at her or their mama as he asks. No, his eyes are locked on the opera singer on the stage at the far side of the room. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke eyes the woman because she is sure that this is the woman that she has heard whispers of being her brother’s former mistress. While Roan would never think to discuss such matters as that with her, she hears the whispers. She is beautiful in an almost exotic way and she has heard her perform before—she is quite talented. What she does not understand is what her brother would be doing spending time with a woman of her stature as he could never marry her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, please. Thank you, Roan,” Abby answers him and Clarke lets her arm drop from his. Once he is gone she turns to Clarke. “We really should not be here. This is...not what a ball should be.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, Mama,” Clarke laughs. “Do not worry. Just try to enjoy yourself. Now, if you will excuse me I am going to take a walk about the room.” She does not wait for her mama to respond before walking away. She fears that her mama will want to keep her by her side for the entirety of the evening and Clarke cannot bear the sympathetic looks that her mama thinks she is being discreet with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Someone grabs her arm, fingers digging in as they pull her to a stop. Clarke turns to find Josephine has taken hold of her arm. “Do you know that I had once thought us friends, Clarke?” she asks once she knows she has Clarke’s attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke frowns. “Are we not friends?” she asks innocently. She and Josephine have never truly been friends, only ever rivals. They are too close in age and rank for them to ever truly be friends once they began to seek out husbands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well I had thought that we were but then you swooped in and turned the prince’s attention away from me,” Josephine sneers. “That is how I treat my enemies—not my friends.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am sure that is not at all how it went,” Clarke says calmly as she pulls her arm from the other girl’s grasp. “But I am sorry that you feel that way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Josephine shakes her head. “You act like you are this perfect lady but I know better. You are ruthless. You strung the duke along, letting him believe that you were interested in marrying him until the prince came along, and then you turned your sights on him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Believe what you want, Josie,” Clarke uses the nickname from when they were children, knowing how much the other girl hates it. “But I promise you that I do not know what you speak of.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Miss Griffin,” a voice interrupts before Josephine can reply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Both girls turn to find Prince Wells smiling at them. They both curtsey and in unison say, “Your Highness.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do apologize for interrupting your conversation,” Wells continues, “but I had been hoping that I could ask for a dance with you this evening, Miss Griffin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Clarke says sweetly as she offers her wrist and therefore her dance card to him. “It would be my pleasure.” As she turns to look at Josephine her smile morphs into a smirk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Miss Griffin, I look forward to it.” Wells presses a kiss to the back of her hand. “Miss Lightbourne.” He inclines his head to Josephine before he walks away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do hope that you have a wonderful evening, Josephine,” Clarke calls as she takes this opportunity to step into the crowd and away from Josephine. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The worst part of Josephine’s words are that she is not wrong—well, at least not completely wrong. The only reason that she has turned her attentions to the prince is because Bellamy had made it clear that he was not an option. She had not for even a second thought about what she could be taking from Josephine. But with that being said, it is not her fault that Wells obviously prefers her to Josephine. So she has nothing to feel bad about, right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke forces a smile onto her lips as a gentleman whose name she cannot recall steps in front of her and engages her in conversation. From there Clarke just allows herself to be swept up in the crowd, dancing with those that request it and speaking with those that seek her out. She easily loses track of time but eventually, Prince Wells is standing in front of her once more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Miss Griffin, I was hoping that we could have that dance now?” Wells offers her his hand which she takes with a smile. She allows him to lead her to the dance floor and she begins to move with the music. “I am glad to see that you are wearing the necklace tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke smiles. “Of course I am, it is beautiful. Thank you again for the gift. It was so generous.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was my pleasure,” he tells her but before he can continue they are switching partners. Once they find their way back to one another he smiles down at her. “I have another gift that I am hoping that you will be just as happy about.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke freezes for a second, knowing that he intends to propose, and suddenly she is finding it hard to breathe. She hears him speaking but she cannot hear his words over the panic that is rising within her. She moves to the music mechanically, glad that the dances are so imprinted in her mind that it does not require any of her attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because all of her attention is currently focused on not completely losing it right here on the dance floor at the thought of Wells proposing. She had known that he was going to propose, so why is she panicking over it so much now that the time is here? She does not understand. No, that is a lie. She does understand why she is panicking. She just thought that she had moved past it—or at least she had hoped that she had moved past it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the music draws to a close she lets her hands drop from Wells’s, eyes darting around the room as she interrupts him, “I am so sorry, Your Highness, I need just a moment. Just a moment to freshen up and then I shall return.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Without waiting for a response she darts away, barely able to keep herself from running as she makes her way out of the ballroom, down the hallway, and out the front door. Her chest heaves as she tries to force enough breath into her lungs. She feels dizzy as if she could pass out at any moment as the panic threatens to overwhelm her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her hands move to the necklace around her neck—it feels like it is choking her. She yanks it from her neck, throwing it to the ground as her eyes fill with tears. What is wrong with her? She does find it is easier to breathe now as she forces lungfuls of the crisp air through her lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes widen and she is suddenly panicking again but for a different reason now. She spins around to find that no, she was not mistaken, that had in fact been Bellamy’s voice. “Your Grace? What are you doing here? I thought that you were leaving London.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was...I mean, I am.” Bellamy shakes his head. “I came to say goodbye.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Goodbye to who?” she asks, confused. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, to you, of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke laughs and it has an edge of hysteria to it. “To me? But why would you wish to say goodbye to me? We are not friends after all. That seems like an odd thing to do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am sorry that I said that,” Bellamy stutters out as he steps toward her but Clarke jerks back as if she has been burnt, bringing him to an abrupt halt. “That is not what I meant.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you know what, Your Grace?” Clarke asks, voice dripping with venom. Who does he think he is? Why is he here? Why is he bothering her? She is supposed to be free of him. “I do not care what you meant or what you did not mean. You do not matter to me. I neither want nor need anything from you, including your apologies. I am to marry the prince. As soon as I go back into that ballroom, he will propose and then we will be engaged. I will be happy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy nods slowly before licking his lips. “Will you be?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Did he really just ask her that or is she hearing things? Clarke feels rage rush through her, the panic of just moments before long forgotten. Bellamy has some nerve showing up here and speaking to her like this. “Yes, I most certainly will be happy. Wells is a good man and we will be very happy together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The prince is not the man for you,” Bellamy says, his voice shaking and barely above a whisper.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Clarke roars. “You do not get to do this. You do not get to tell me that we were never friends and then show up on the night that the prince is to propose to me and tell me that he is not the man for me. Who I marry is none of your business—you made that abundantly clear the other day. I am to be a princess.” Clarke does not know why she added that last part because all it does is make her sound like a petulant child. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not say anything as he stands there just staring at her which just further ignites Clarke’s fire. “Are you really going to say nothing?” When he does not respond she throws her hands in the air. “Well then leave. Is that not what you said you were going to do? Is that not what you wish to do? Just leave me be.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not make any move to leave and still, he remains silent. Clarke is so angry she does not trust herself to be around him any longer. There is a very good possibility that she might murder him if she has to look at him for even one more second.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine, then I will leave.” Clarke turns away and instead of heading towards the house, she turns to run off into the darkness. She just needs to get away from Bellamy and his confusing words. She cannot let anyone see the tears that now pool in her eyes as the anger and hurt twirl together inside of her until she can no longer tell the two apart. She hears him call after her but she does not slow as she rushes into the gardens.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke, please,” Bellamy begs. “Please just go back to the party. It is not safe out here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What does he care for her safety? Why can he not leave her alone? He made it clear that he did not care for her and yet here he is following her and telling her that she is not safe. Clarke slows as the tears begin to fall, afraid that she might miss a step and fall not being able to see through her tears.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke.” Bellamy is close—too close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke spins around, face contorting in rage even as her tears continue to fall. “Why can you not leave me alone?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy shakes his head, opening his mouth before snapping it shut. Clarke huffs out an unamused laugh as she turns away from him. She is stopped by his hand on her arm. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please, Clarke,” he pleads again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke half turns back to him, eyes sliding down to where his hand touches her bare arm and suddenly she is finding it hard to breathe again—but this is not from panic. She does not know what this is. She raises her gaze, eyes locking with Bellamy’s and she forgets everything else but him at that moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is something between them—there always has been, no matter how much he has denied it—and this moment just proves it as he cannot seem to look away from her. When his eyes drop to her lips and Clarke is sure that she has forgotten how to breathe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then Bellamy is yanking her toward him, their bodies pressed together with no space between them as his lips crash into hers. She freezes for a mere moment before letting her lips move with his. She has never kissed anyone before but she does not think of that for more than a moment. She feels like there is a fire running from where their lips meet throughout the rest of her body. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her hands slide up his chest and around his neck, lips falling open as he runs his tongue along the seam of her lips. She gasps into the kiss as his tongue brushes hers and then she has no thoughts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they break apart Bellamy steps back from her licking his lips as he shakes his head. “I am so sorry, Clarke,” he says but he cannot seem to look away from her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They stand there staring at one another for what could be hours but she is sure is just mere moments and then she is moving toward him, going up on her toes to press her lips to his once more. She knows that she should not be doing this—this is not how a lady should act but there is a fire building within her—a fire centering between her legs and she wants nothing more than to stoke the fire. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy’s hands wander over her back, her hips, and then he is gripping under her thigh and lifting her leg around his hip while his other hand pulls her closer. She feels something hard brush her stomach as his body brushes across her center, sending a thrill of pleasure through her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the-” Clarke hears someone yell and then the next thing she knows Bellamy is being ripped from her grasp. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She brings a hand to her lips, eyes wide as Roan swings, knocking Bellamy to the ground. “Roan! No!” She rushes over to grab her brother’s arm but he easily knocks her off of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He reaches down to grab Bellamy by the front of his shirt as he leans in close. She has never seen her brother this angry. “You will marry my sister,” Roan hisses, shaking Bellamy as he speaks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy looks to Clarke and she sees the apology in his eyes before he turns back to Roan. “I cannot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have defiled her innocence,” Roan yells. “You <em>will</em> marry her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Bellamy just shakes his head again Clarke’s hand goes to her chest, grasping at the front of her dress as pain blossoms in her chest. Why is he so desperate to not marry her? She does not understand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan shakes his head as he shoves Bellamy back to the ground. “Fine, if you will not marry her, then we shall settle this like gentlemen—not that you are one. We shall duel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Absolutely not,” Clarke cries as she rushes over, intent on kneeling on the ground beside Bellamy but Roan stops her. Tears stream down her cheeks as she wills Bellamy to meet her eyes once again but after he sits up, he keeps his eyes locked on the ground in front of him. “You would rather die than marry me?” she screeches.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, Bellamy’s eyes lift to meet hers. “I am sorry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sobs, feeling like she has been hit in the chest with something heavy. What is so wrong with her that he is not willing to do what he must after they have done what they have done? Why will he not marry her?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come Clarke.” Roan gathers her under his arm before turning back to Bellamy. “At dawn.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then Roan is hustling her inside. The tears slow and then stop as they walk up the pathway to the house. She leans heavily against Roan as everything rushes away, leaving her feeling empty. She hears Roan speaking to her but she cannot focus on his words. All she can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She does not look up until they are stepping into the house as Roan leads her directly to their mama. “Clarke has a headache, so I am going to take her home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke feels someone tug on her arm as her mama and Roan speak. She turns to find Josephine standing there, a smug grin on her face. “I hope that you did not catch a cold while wandering the gardens.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke does not have a chance to consider her words as Roan takes her under his arm once more and begins to lead her from the ballroom. She glances back at Josephine and something in the back of her head tells her that she should be worried about the look on Josephine’s face but she just cannot find it in herself to figure out what Josephine is up to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not worry, Clarke,” Roan says as he leads her to their carriage. “I am sure that no one saw you and I will make sure that this is all rectified tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No one had…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh no...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Is that what Josephine had been referring to? She tries to think back to Josephine’s exact words. She had mentioned the garden. There is no way that she could have seen them, right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I am not angry with you,” Roan continues as he helps her into the carriage. “There is no way that you could have known any better.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That brings Clarke’s thoughts to an abrupt halt. “And why is that brother? Is it because I am a woman?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” Roan stutters, shaking his head. “I do not-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just because I am a woman does not mean that I did not have control over myself, Roan.” Clarke shakes her head. “I hold just as much blame for this as Bellamy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, Clarke, you-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Damn it, Roan. Stop it.” Clarke leans against the side of the carriage. “I do not wish to speak this anymore.” She lets her eyes fall shut, sleep immediately pulling her under.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>As promised I come bearing news of the scandal that may or may not have taken place at Lady Bios’s ball last night. It is quite possible that a young lady was spotted unchaperoned with a gentleman in the gardens during the ball. And that they were indeed caught by a family member. Did I not warn the young ladies to take care? And still, I hear these rumors. Take heed readers for I do know of which I speak. I have been unable to verify if this is in fact true, so for now I shall withhold any names. But I promise you that I will find out if there is any validity to this claim or not and you will be the first to know. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy wanders for much of the night before heading to Lincoln and Octavia’s home. He knows that it is much too early to bother them but he must say goodbye to his family. He cannot go to the duel without at the very least saying goodbye to them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He knocks on the door and when it goes unanswered, he pounds on the door until a very surly Lincoln throws the door open with a, “What in the hell-” Lincoln breaks off when he sees Bellamy. “Bellamy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who is it?” Octavia calls as she steps into the room, Nicholas seated half on her hip and half on her rounded belly. She frowns when her eyes meet Bellamy’s. “Bell? What is going on? Do you know what time it is?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am very sorry for the hour but it could not be helped.” Bellamy glances between his sister and brother-in-law. “May I come in so that I can explain?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lincoln steps aside to allow him entrance while Octavia gets Nicholas settled back into the bed. Lincoln makes tea for the three of them and then he is explaining to them what a mess he has made of his life and why he is here—to say goodbye because in just a few short hours he will be dead. Once he has finished his story, he lets his eyes drift back and forth between the two as they take in what he has just told them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Were you dropped on your head as a child?” Octavia asks quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy narrows his eyes as he tries to understand what she is going on about. “What are you speaking of, O?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am just wondering if you have brain damage from being dropped onto your head as a child.” Octavia lays her palms flat on the table, using them for leverage as she stands from her chair. She leans forward as she speaks slowly and that is when Bellamy realizes just how angry she is. “Because if not, I would really like to know what happened to your head to make you this stupid. You must marry the girl, Bellamy. It solves everything—including you being head over heels in love with her. So what am I missing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I cannot marry her, O.” Bellamy shakes his head. “She wants children and I cannot—will not be able to give those to her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are an idiot,” she says again. “If you do not marry the girl and you die today, I shall never forgive you.” She stares at him just long enough for him to see the tears that are beginning to form in her eyes before she storms off the bedroom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy sighs as he runs a hand down his face before turning to Lincoln. “Please tell me that you understand.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not in the slightest. I absolutely agree with my wife—you are a complete and utter moron.” Lincoln sighs. “But if you insist on not marrying the girl, then I will be your second.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lincoln laughs. “It was not a suggestion. I will be your second.” He shakes his head. “You do realize that your sister is not lying. She will never forgive you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I cannot force Clarke into a marriage in which she cannot have the thing that she desires most. I will not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine. Is there anything that you need me to do for you?” Lincoln asks as he leans back in his chair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Bellamy says with a shake of his head. “All of my affairs are in order.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am just going to say one more time that I do believe that this is the stupidest decision you have made since I have known you,” Lincoln says as he stands up. “But if it is what you have decided, I will do my best to calm Octavia. For now, I will get changed and then we will leave.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Lincoln. You are a true friend.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you, my friend, are a true idiot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy cannot help but laugh to himself because though he will not say it out loud, he agrees.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke paces her room watching as the sun slowly begins to rise. After making it home from the ball she had been unable to sleep for an extended period of time. When she heard Roan get up and leave the house she had finally just climbed out of her bed. She must stop the duel but she does not know where it is taking place. She should have attempted to follow Roan and Murphy but she knows that they would have caught her. She pauses her pacing and bites her lip, wondering if Monty might know where the duel is taking place. He must, right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke hurries to dress as simply as possible so that she is actually able to dress herself—which turns out is much harder than she had anticipated it being. She makes her way to Monty’s room and knocks lightly. When she gets no response she pushes it open to find the bed unslept in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She makes her way down the stairs as quietly as possible and as she nears the bottom she notices light coming from under the door of her brother’s study. She moves as quietly as possible because not only does she not want to wake her mama or siblings but she would also prefer that the servants do not know what she is doing. She pushes open the door to the study to find Monty staring into the fire.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke pushes into the study, shutting the door quietly as Monty spins around to face her. “Clarke? What are you doing up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I need you to tell me where the duel is,” Clarke begs as she makes her way over to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty snorts. “I think not, dear sister. Roan would skin me alive if I did that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have to stop it, Monty. I cannot let those two idiots duel. No one should die for this.” Clarke takes his hand in hers as she pleads not just with her words but with her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He wronged you and this family, Clarke, and then he has refused to marry you to make amends.” Monty shakes his head. “I do not know what you expect our brother to do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sighs. Of course, her brother agrees with Roan—he is a man after all. “But Monty, what if I can convince Bellamy to marry me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He already refused.” Monty pats her hand softly. “Do not worry so, dear sister. When it comes down to it, they will be gentlemen and pull their shots. They will shoot in the air and then it will be over with.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Clarke argues. “Did you see how angry Roan was? You know how bad his temper can be. Do you really think that he will pull his shot? Because I do not think that he will. I think that Bellamy will do just that while Roan will shoot him and become a murderer. He will have to flee the country. Do you really want that for him? I will never forgive myself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke can see the uncertainty on Monty’s face and she thinks that she just might be getting through to him. Honestly, she is glad that he is the one that was left behind as he is the most level-headed of her three eldest brothers. If she were able to convince any of them, it would be him. And she must convince him because she was not lying when she said that she would not be able to forgive herself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not to mention Josephine. Clarke has managed to convince herself in between worrying about her idiotic brother and the idiotic man that she finds herself in love with, that Josephine did indeed see them in the gardens. If Roan kills Bellamy and Josephine tells what she saw Clarke and her family will be ruined. There will be no coming back for them and it will be all her fault.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He was really angry,” Monty mutters to himself and it is then that Clarke realizes that she has won him over. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thank the gods.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fine, I will take you but if we want to make it there in time we must leave immediately,” Monty says, already striding toward the door and leaving Clarke to hurry after him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Within minutes they are on horses, galloping their way to the secluded alcove where Roan and Bellamy intend to duel. She just hopes that they can make it in time.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy stands beside Lincoln, watching Roan and Murphy have a hushed conversation. He wonders what their conversation might be as he and Lincoln stand there in silence. He does know that they speak of him at one point when both brothers turn their murderous glares in his direction. He knows that he will die here today and he has accepted it. Honestly, it is easier this way. End it all now—the whole Hastings line gone. It is what he wants, though slightly sooner than he had planned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay gentlemen,” the physician calls out, “if you are doing this, now is the time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy takes a deep breath as he steels himself for the inevitable and then he and Lincoln are standing next to the physician across from Murphy and Roan. The physician opens the box holding the pistols, allowing Murphy and Lincoln to each pick one up. They inspect them to make sure that everything is in working order and then Lincoln is handing the pistol to him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He and Roan make their way to the center of the clearing, back to back. “I am really and truly sorry,” Bellamy tells his friend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is too late for apologies Hastings,” Roan mutters, anger lacing his words. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy winces because his friend knows just how much he hates the Hastings name and he will never go by it. That was his father’s name and it shall never be his or anyone else’s ever again—not after today. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“1, 2, 3, 4, 5,” Bellamy counts his paces along with Roan as they step away from one another. He takes another deep breath before turning around to face the murderous gaze of a man that he considers one of his closest friends. He sure managed to bungle this all to hell, did he not?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy lifts his pistol along with Roan, though he lifts his straight up in the air as Roan trains his on Bellamy. His gaze narrows to the nose of the pistol pointed at him. This is it, this is the end of everything. He prays that Octavia finds a way to forgive him. He prays that Clarke is not ruined by this mistake. He prays that the end is swift.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He squeezes his eyes shut as they pull the triggers, waiting for the moment that his life will end. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a squeal of a horse and Bellamy’s eyes snap open as he realizes he has not been hit. He sees a head of golden curls as the horse rears up on its hind legs and sends the girl atop it flying to the ground.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke!” he yells before he can stop himself and then he is running to her, dropping the pistol forgotten to the ground. She has to be okay. She must be. He will never be able to forgive himself if something happened to her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy slides to his knees beside her, making it there mere milliseconds before Roan. He pulls her into her arms, pushing her hair from her face. “Clarke? Clarke? Please tell me that you are okay. Clarke?”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke groans, raising a hand to her head. She is pretty sure that Roan shot at her. Nothing hurts except her head so she does not think that she was actually shot but that does not help her temperament. She feels hands lifting her into their arms and hears both Roan and Bellamy’s voices. And maybe Murphy and Monty’s but they sound further away. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Unhand me,” she says as her eyes fall open, realizing that she is in Bellamy’s arms. She struggles to free herself from his hold before standing up—rather ungracefully she is sure—before she spins to face Roan, hands on her hips and narrowed eyes. “You were going to kill him!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was a duel, sister. What did you expect?” Roan asks. “Speaking of which, why the hell would you ride a horse in the middle of a duel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To keep you from doing something that could not be undone.” She shakes her head. “You know what? I shall deal with you in a moment. I need to speak with Bellamy for a moment.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, we must finish the duel,” Roan tells her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke closes her eyes, taking a deep breath before answering him. “I will end you if you do not quiet yourself and allow me a moment to speak with Bellamy,” she growls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy looks mildly amused which she does not approve of. She is no happier with his idiotic self. If the two of them continue on this way they might both end up dead and she the murderer. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You can wipe that look off of your face, Your Grace, for I am no happier with you than I am with my brother.” She takes a moment to try and reign herself in once more. “Now, if I might have a moment of your time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It looks like Bellamy wants to deny her but with all three of her brothers standing there, staring him down, what choice does he have but to follow her? She stops a good distance from the others but still well within their sight. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is it that you need, Clarke?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Josephine Lightbourne saw us in the gardens. If she tells anyone what she saw I will be ruined,” she says and pauses, waiting for him to respond. When he just continues to look at her blankly she has to once again remind herself that losing her temper will do neither of them any good. “You must change your mind and marry me. If my brother kills you in this duel, it will not prevent my ruination—my family’s ruination.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I cannot change my mind, Clarke. I am sorry but that is not an option.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke momentarily forgets herself as she spits out her response, “And why the hell not?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is the small smile at the corner of Bellamy’s mouth once more, showing that she is somehow amusing him with her anger. “Because Clarke, I hold you in much too high regard to marry you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That makes no sense, Bellamy. Explain it to me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All amusement is gone from Bellamy’s face as he takes her hand in his. “Clarke, I cannot give you children and I know that is your deepest desire—to be a mother. I would never allow myself to put you in that position. I have accepted my fate and I will gladly die here today rather than to cause you to make such a compromise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s heart drops at his words. He does not say that he does not care for her—no, by all accounts he is doing this because he does care for her. And he is not wrong. She has always wished for children but she no longer has that choice. That is the way that it has to be and she will learn to live with it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can live without children, Bellamy,” she tells him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I cannot do that to you, Clarke. Please,” Bellamy begs her, “let your brother finish this. We must continue before someone discovers us. I do not wish for your brother to be arrested. I do not wish to bring any further scandal to your family.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shakes her head as she pushes past Bellamy and heads toward her brothers once more. She hears Bellamy hurrying after her and she knows that he will think that she is about to allow the duel to continue but he is wrong. They must marry. That is all there is to be said on the matter.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There is no reason for the duel to continue,” she informs her brothers, “for the duke and I shall marry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We shall?” Bellamy’s confusion is apparent and she still is not sure that she will not kill him after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke glances over her shoulder to meet Bellamy’s eyes. “I told you, I can live a life without children. What I cannot do is allow something that I did to be the ruination of my family.” She turns back to her brothers. “We shall marry. Now, I must hurry home before Mama wakes. Take care of this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke does not know where the horse she rode has gone, so she heads for the horse that Monty rode over and climbs onto it. She hears her brothers and Bellamy arguing and someone yells after her but she does not stop. She has said all that there is to say and so it shall be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She makes it home and into her bed without getting caught. As soon as her head hits the pillow the door is opening and her lady’s maid Mel is there. “Good morning, Miss Clarke.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good morning, Mel.” Clarke stretches as if she had just awoken and allows Mel to help her ready for the day. Now that the matter has been settled, she must inform her mama that she is to marry the duke. How has this become her life?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Mel. Do you know if my mama is up yet?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mel nods. “I do believe that she is in the sitting room.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With one last thank you, Clarke leaves her lady’s maid in her room and makes her way down the stairs. She finds her mama sitting on one of the couches, her head in her hand. “Mama?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, Clarke.” Abby looks up and forces a smile but she looks quite ill. “I do hope that you are feeling well as I do think that I caught whatever it was that you had last night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke barely manages to keep herself from snickering at her mama because Clarke’s illness had been faked and she does believe that her mama might have overdone it with the spirits at the ball last night. “I am sorry to hear that Mama, but I need to speak with you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh?” Abby lets her hands drop as she gives Clarke her undivided attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am engaged to be married, Mama,” Clarke blurts out, her nerves finally getting the better of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby does not manage to hide her disappointment and disapproval fast enough for Clarke to not see it. “I see. Well, I suppose being a princess will be nice. I am sure that the wedding will be magnificent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, no, Mama. I am not to marry the prince but the duke.” Clarke twists her hands behind her back, unsure of how her mama will take this news.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The duke, you say?” Abby’s face lights up in a smile. “That is delightful news. I guess we need to get to planning. I do believe that we have plenty of time to be able to have an elaborate affair before the end of the Season.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke bites her lip. She cannot wait until the end of the Season. She does not trust that Josephine will not tell what she had seen before then. “Must we wait that long? Do you think that we might be able to obtain a special license to marry sooner?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A special license?” Abby questions, her joy slipping slightly for a moment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke is afraid of what her mama might think but she knows that if she wants her to agree to a faster wedding, she will have to tell her why they must do so. “Last night at the ball, the duke and I-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, it is okay, dear child,” Abby interrupts her, taking Clarke’s hands into hers and squeezing. “I understand what happens when two people are in love and sometimes they let that love get a little out of hand. I do not need to know what happened. These things happen and I am sure that we can get a special license for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Mama.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby sighs as she pulls her in for a hug. “At least you are getting to marry for love. I know how much that meant for you. I am glad that you and the duke were able to work it out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Right. Love. She <em>is</em> marrying for love—it is just too bad that he does not love her in return.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, if we are to have you marry in just three days, I must get planning,” Abby says as she releases Clarke. “I am so happy for you, Clarke.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Mama.” Clarke keeps the smile on her face until her mama is gone before letting it fall. She will marry the man that she loves and she will hope that he does not resent her too much.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>In a turn of events that not even I could have imagined, the young Miss Clarke Griffin and the Duke of Hastings, Mr. Bellamy Blake are engaged to be married. How Miss Griffin went from almost being engaged to the Prince of Prussia to actually being engaged to the duke remains unclear. But I would like to wish the couple a hearty congratulations on their engagement. As well as my thoughts and prayers that the queen will not hold this against them because as we are all quite aware, the queen is very good at holding grudges. I am sure that the wedding will be splendid and I will share the details as they are made available to me. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Clarke finds herself once again seated at the piano but she cannot bring herself to play, lost in her thoughts. She watches as people and carriages pass outside the window as she contemplates how her life became so complicated. This should be the happiest time of her life—she is getting married after all—but all she feels is a deep pit of worry in her stomach. She wishes that she could go back to the beginning of the Season when things were simpler.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is the point of sitting at the piano if you do not intend to play it?” Raven asks, leaning against the side of the piano as she watches her sister.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clake blinks, shaking her head as she turns to face her sister. “I had intended to play but then I got lost in my thoughts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Too busy thinking about the duke?” her sister asks, voice dripping with disdain.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke frowns. “Do you have something against my future husband?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raven snorts. “Is the fact that he is your future husband not enough? I do not understand you, Clarke. Do you not want more for yourself? More than just being someone’s wife and a breeding mare? Because I know that I do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There is nothing wrong with wishing to be a mother and a wife. Just because you wish for more does not mean that you should treat me as less because that is what I want from my life,” Clarke says as she tries to remind herself that she loves Raven and that killing her is not the way to go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke and Raven have often not seen eye-to-eye on the way that they are viewed by the world. Raven has always wanted more—she has always been jealous of her brothers and their ability to do as they choose and to attend university. She has always resented the fact that she is expected to marry and have children. And Clarke is beginning to believe Raven resents her for not wanting more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Prince Wells, here for Miss Clarke,” one of the servants calls from the doorway, drawing the attention of both girls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sighs. “Will you please show him to the drawing-room and let him know that I will be right there.” She waits until he is gone before turning to Raven. “I am not you Raven. I am glad that you want more from your life but do not fault me for wanting what I want. I am happy that I am marrying the duke—though it does not appear that children will be in my future.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shakes her head, trying to ignore the disappointment and anger behind her words. When Raven just blinks at her Clarke laughs, though it is not a joyous sound before heading for the door. She pauses outside of the drawing-room trying to draw strength before she steps inside. She had not intended to hurt the prince—he truly is a wonderfully nice man and would have made a perfectly nice husband had she not already been in love with someone else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your Highness,” Clarke says as she curtseys.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wells turns to face her, face pinched. “I have read that you are engaged to marry the duke. Is this true?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke gives him a sad smile. “It is and I am so sorry. I did not wish to hurt or disappoint you in any way. Had I known…” she trails off, not sure how to finish her statement.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wells watches her for a moment before sweeping over and taking her hands into his. “You are marrying him by choice, yes? No one is forcing you to do this?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.” Clarke blinks, confused as she lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course, it is my choice. No one is forcing me. We are just in love.” No, she is not being forced into the marriage—she is forcing him to marry her. And she hates herself for it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I see.” Wells smiles. “Well, I am sorry that it was not you and I that fell in love as I did very much enjoy our time spent together, but I can never hold it against someone to find love. I wish you and the duke the happiest of lives.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wells lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it before letting go, and then he is gone. Clarke feels like her head is spinning. Everything is moving so quickly. She almost does not understand the reason behind Wells’s visit. Why had he come? Had he hoped to change her mind about marrying the Duke? And if that had been his intention, then why had he not tried to do just that?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sinks into a chair, resting her face in her hands. Her world is spinning out of control and she does not care for it. She is someone who likes to be in control at all times and nothing is going the way that she had planned. She just hopes that she can make it through all of this with her head still attached. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She allows herself another moment of self-pity before standing. There is too much to do for her to be sitting here doing nothing but feel sorry for herself.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy stumbles as he hurries to meet Clarke, her mother, and Lady Diyoza for a promenade. He is late and still half-drunk. He had not intended to still be drunk but he guesses that he had drunk more last night than he had intended. He straightens his jacket and rolls his neck, trying to get himself to not only wake up but to try and sober up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Following the duel and Clarke’s pronouncement that they were to wed—even after he had told her that he could not marry her because he could not give her children—Bellamy had promptly made his way to the club where he had drunk an entire bottle of whiskey. Then he had gone to a bar and then another and then another. And that is when his memory seems to blackout. He had awoken in his own bed a mere twenty minutes ago. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy pauses as he sees Clarke searching for him, her mother and Lady Diyoza walking behind him and talking. Every time he sees her, he is struck by her beauty. And it is not just her beauty that he loves. He loves how she challenges him and does not allow him to get away with anything. What he does not love is that she is settling to marry him to prevent the ruination of herself and her family. He hates himself for having done this to her and he knows that one day she will come to hate him as well.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes meet his and he forces a smile on his lips as he stumbles over to join them. He sees the worry in Clarke’s eyes as well as the disgust in Abby and Lady Diyoza’s. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you come straight from the bar, boy?” Lady Diyoza does not bother to hide her disgust, making him feel like he is a child once more. She always makes him feel like this when he disappoints her. It is probably one of the reasons why he has never been able to refer to her as anything except Lady Diyoza, even inside his own head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy chooses to ignore her words as he begins to walk beside Clarke. She tries to start a conversation with him but he cannot concentrate on her words enough to even attempt conversation. All of his attention is needed to keep upright and walking in a straight line, so they end up lapsing into silence as they walk.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Yet another thing to hate himself for</em>, he thinks as he glances at her from the corner of his eye. Usually, Clarke is so vibrant, eyes sparkling as she speaks but today she looks pale and withdrawn and he knows that he has done this to her and he hates himself. He hates this. Why had she not just let Roan kill him? It would have solved so many problems.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy forces a smile onto his face as a group of people approaches them, offering their congratulations. This he can do—or at least that is what he thinks until Clarke’s hand is touching his, trying to hold his hand and that is when he snaps. He cannot do this. He snatches his hand from hers, feeling like his heart is being ripped from his chest at the look on her face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you will excuse me, I just remembered that I have a meeting that I am late for.” He gives a little bow before practically running away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He is a coward.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He is selfish.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He is a fraud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All he had needed to do was leave London and Clarke behind but he had not been able to do that. He had been too selfish, needing to see Clarke once more before he left her forever. And then she had run from him and he had been worried that something might happen to her, so he had followed. He had followed without any thought as to what that might look like. What shame he could bring to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then he had kissed her. Bellamy’s face burns with shame. He had taken something from her that she had not known that she should not give. She was so innocent and he had ruined her. All because jealousy had been eating at him. Jealousy over the fact that she had moved on so quickly to the prince—the prince who looked at her like she hung the moon. And he had ruined that, taken that from her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He has taken so much from her and he hates himself for it. He hates how weak he is. He is ashamed of himself. He will never be worthy of her and they both know it. But it is too late now. What is done is done and they shall forever be bound.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke stands on the raised platform as Emori fits her for her wedding gown. The dress is beautiful and Emori had agreed to make it quickly for which Clarke is appreciative. She looks at herself in the mirror and admits to herself that she shall be a beautiful bride. She just wishes that she could be a joyous bride.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her mama and Emori speak while Emori makes adjustments to the dress, but Clarke cannot bring herself to join in the conversation. She is finding it easier and easier to get lost inside her head. Her thoughts never stop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just this morning Bellamy had been late to promenade with her and he had still been drunk. She had winced when Lady Diyoza had chastised him but Clarke had not blamed him. He was a man who had never intended to marry who is being forced into a marriage with a woman he does not love. She does not blame him for drinking and drinking heavily. She almost wishes that she could do the same, just to get herself out of her head for a bit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The bell above the door jingles, alerting them to someone entering the shop. Clarke sees that it is Simone and Josephine Lightbourne as Emori apologizes and tells them that she will be right back. Josephine’s eyes lock with hers in the mirror and she watches as a smirk slides across the other girl’s lips. Oh, how she hates her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She has never hated anyone in her life (besides herself) but the hate for Josephine burns her soul. She has the ability to ruin Clarke and she has the motive to do so seeing as she thinks that Clarke stole Wells from her. Clarke must make sure that she knows that she cannot do that though. “Mama, I would like to go speak with Josephine if you do not mind.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, Clarke,” Abby says with a smile. “I will go chat with her mama and Emori while you do that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke steps down off of the platform and makes her way over to where Josephine stands, fingering fabrics. Josephine turns to her as she approaches, eyes running over the dress she wears. “That is not a style I would choose to wear but I can see why they thought it would look good on you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke reminds herself that Josephine wants to make her angry—that she wants to have a reason to spread what she saw and Clarke cannot give that to her. She must not. “Well, of course, we know that you have exceptional taste,” Clarke says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That I do which is why I would have made a wonderful princess,” Josephine sneers. “If someone had not ruined that for me and then chased him off after using him to make the duke jealous so that she could force him into marriage.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I assure you, Josephine, that I did not force the duke into marrying me.” Clarke takes a deep breath. “And I am sorry that the prince chose to leave instead of picking up his courtship with you but I would like to remind you that I am about to be a duchess. Do you want to have a duchess as a friend or an enemy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Josephine frowns and Clarke can see the gears turning in her head. “Let me guess, this is about the information I have about a certain late-night stroll in the gardens.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke inclines her head, not answering the question as she continues, “I am just saying that if someone had information about me that I did not want to get out and they chose to keep that to themselves, I would be eternally grateful. And a grateful duchess is much better than a vengeful duchess, do you not agree?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Josephine considers her for a moment before nodding. “You know, I think I do agree. You win this one, Clarke, but I will remember this, and I will expect that this favor be returned in kind in the future.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, I will always be willing to help out a friend in any way that I can.” Clarke holds her breath as Josephine makes her way back to her mama before letting out a sigh of relief. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least that is one less thing to worry about—though it is a problem she will have to worry about in the future because she knows that Josephine will not let her forget that she owes her. And Clarke might come to regret making that bargain but she did not have a choice, did she?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke laughs to herself as she makes her way back to the platform so that Emori can finish up the alterations. Her not having a choice is becoming a regular excuse and she does not know that she likes it. She must get her life under control.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy watches Roan as he looks around the church—the very church that he and Clarke will marry in. He and his friend have not spoken since the duel and Bellamy is not sure where they stand. Will his friend ever be able to forgive him for trapping his sister into marriage with him?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan turns around to find Bellamy studying him. “What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was just wondering how much time it might take for you to forgive me.” Bellamy does not always speak so candidly but that is always the relationship that he and Roan have had.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, you are doing the right thing and marrying her now and it would not do to be at war with my sister’s husband, now would it?” Roan smiles, offering Bellamy his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just like that, all is forgiven?” Bellamy shakes his head, not believing it. Never in his life has anything been this easy. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan laughs. “I know that you did not ever wish to marry and I will never be okay with what you did but I do know that you will treat Clarke well and in the way she deserves and that is all that I ever wanted for her.” He nods toward his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy laughs as he shakes Roan’s hand. “I do not know that I will ever understand you and your family.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, the good news is that you will have plenty of time to figure us out, will you not?” Roan glances toward the front of the church but there is still no sign of the archbishop. “While we are waiting, we should discuss Clarke’s dowry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.” Bellamy shakes his head. “I have no need or want for a dowry for marrying her. You may put it into a trust for her, but I will take care of Clarke from here on out—that is my job as her husband.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan looks like he wants to argue but the archbishop appears at the front of the church and makes his way over to them. “I am sorry, gentlemen, but I am not able to provide you with a special license today.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy feels his stomach drop as he listens to the archbishop. He reads the fear in Roan’s eyes. If the archbishop cannot provide them with a special license, then there is a chance that the events of the ball could be made public. They are fucked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After unsuccessfully attempting to sway the archbishop the pair make their way to the Griffin home with heavy hearts. Bellamy does not know what they will do. When they inform Clarke he hates himself for the way her face falls. This could all fall apart around them and it is all his fault and he does not know how to fix it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why are we all so glum? I thought this dinner was to celebrate the upcoming nuptials,” Lady Diyoza says as she steps into the sitting room where they have all gathered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There shall not be any nuptials, at least not any time soon,” Clarke says, her back to all of them. He knows that she must be worrying about Josephine. He might need to pay the young lady a visit to convince her that keeping her mouth shut is in everyone’s best interest—if for no other reason than Clarke’s state of mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lady Diyoza scoffs after Bellamy fills her in. “I do not think that it is the archbishop that is refusing the special license. If I had to guess I would say the queen. After all, she had anticipated Clarke marrying her nephew. Her pride is hurt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So what do we do?” Bellamy asks, noticing that Clarke has turned around, obviously wanting the answer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is simple. You give her exactly what she desires—your attention.” Lady Diyoza laughs. “You will just need to ask for an audience and show her how in love the two of you are. I do believe that once she sees that and listens to you explain why you are seeking a special license, she will grant it to you. That will not be a problem, will it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course not,” Bellamy says as Clarke’s eyes find his—her fear palpable. He gets it, she does not love him and does not know how to pretend. But that is fine as he will not have to lie. He loves her and he does not think that he will have a problem making the queen believe it. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>It has been brought to my attention that a certain duke and his future bride have sought out and been denied a special license to marry. As we all know there are only two reasons for a couple to want to hurry to their wedding day—scandal or true love. So which is it for our lovely couple? The pair are set to meet with the queen today in hopes of repairing the damage that has been done to her pride. Will she grant them their license? I do believe that the only chance that they have at getting her to agree is if they are truly in love. Only time will tell. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Clarke rests her hand on the inside of Bellamy’s arm as he leads her into the throne room. She keeps her head held high, not allowing herself to look at those who linger on the sides of the throne room. Her attention is locked at the far end of the room where Queen Indra sits. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Queen Indra is a beautiful, fierce woman and if Clarke is honest, she scares the hell out of her. She knows that the queen is not happy with her at the moment seeing as she chose Bellamy over Wells and then the prince quickly left London. Which is how they find themselves here today. She and Bellamy must sell the fact that they are in love to the queen—even though they are not in love. Or at least Bellamy is not in love with her. But it is fine. They can do this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As they reach the bottom of the platform on which Queen Indra’s throne sits, Clarke lets her hand fall from Bellamy’s arm as she sweeps into a deep curtsey while Bellamy bows. “Your Majesty.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Queen Indra looks down onto the pair of them, face etched with boredom. “And what brings the pair of you to me today, requesting an audience with me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, as you know Your Majesty,” Clarke begins, glancing at Bellamy for just a moment before returning her attention back to the queen, “the duke and I intend to marry. We were denied our request for a special license, so we had hoped to come here today to beg your assistance in helping us acquire one.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do not know what you expect me to do. It is not I who is in charge of special licenses. Those are handled by the church.” The queen lifts her eyebrows, letting Clarke know that while the church is in charge of the licenses she is the queen, and therefore, what happens in this country depends on her word.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nods. “Of course, Your Majesty, but I also know that the church would listen to you if you were to speak to them on our behalf.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Queen Indra considers them for a moment. “You are correct, they would, but why should I reach out on your behalf?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke and Bellamy share a glance before turning back to the queen who is waiting impatiently. “This means that I want you to tell me why you want a license.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke clears her throat. “The duke—Bellamy—and I are quite in love. We have been since the first moment we met-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, we have not,” Bellamy says with a laugh. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke turns to him, eyes wide. She is going to murder him. They are supposed to be convincing the queen to allow them to marry and he is contradicting her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke is trying to be kind to me, Your Majesty. When we first met I was an arrogant ass.” Bellamy shakes his head. “And Clarke was quick to tell me that. It was not what I expected. I had never had anyone treat me that way and I was intrigued, so I decided that I should spend more time with her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy never breaks his gaze from the queen as he speaks and Clarke does not know exactly where he is going with this but Queen Indra is now leaning forward in her seat, enraptured with his words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The more time that I spent with her, the more I found out about, the more I had to be around her. She intrigued me, she surprised me. She challenged me. It was everything that I did not know that I needed.” Bellamy shakes his head. “Before I knew it I had fallen head over heels in love with the woman who has become my best friend. And no one was more surprised than myself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke cannot believe the words spilling from Bellamy’s lips. It is everything that she feels but knows that he does not. Where did he learn to lie with such ease? This should worry her but it does not. Instead, she—like the queen—is enraptured by his words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And the very thought of having to wait any longer to marry her breaks my heart. So, I implore you, Your Majesty, please let Clarke and I marry as soon as possible. I do not know how much longer I can survive without her being my wife,” Bellamy pleads.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke turns her attention from Bellamy to the queen. She cannot be absolutely sure but she thinks there might be tears in the queen’s eyes. That must be a good thing, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, Duke of Hastings, you have convinced me.” Queen Indra smiles. “I shall reach out so that you and your bride can marry as soon as possible. I could not bear having your death from a broken heart on my conscience.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke cannot believe it. Bellamy has managed to convince Queen Indra that he is completely in love with her. She is glad that she knows better and will not allow his words to make her doubt what she knows of him. He cares for her, there is no question of that, but she also knows that he does not love her. But the important thing is that they shall have their special license and be able to marry in two days’ time.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy stands in front of the archbishop, fussing with his jacket. Today is not a day that he ever expected to arrive. He had sworn that he would never marry but here he is on his wedding day about to marry a woman he loves who more than likely hates him. He has avoided her for the last two days since they spoke with the queen. He figures that leaving her alone will allow her time to accept what is happening and who knows, maybe one day she will not hate him. That is the best that he can hope for at this point. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy turns when he sees the archbishop’s eyes shift and there she is. Holy shit, she is beautiful. For a moment, Bellamy forgets how to breathe. He has met and bedded many beautiful women in his life but Clarke outshines them all—especially at this moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s blonde curls are pulled back from her face but fall around her shoulders, the light shining through the windows making it look like they are glowing. She looks like a literal angel. He knows naught of women’s fashions but he does know that the dress Clarke wears looks beautiful on her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their eyes meet and Bellamy feels shaken to his core. He does not know how he will ever make up to her all of the pain that he has caused her but he knows that he will spend his life making it up to her. She deserves so much better than him, so much more than him, but he will be the very best husband that he can be. She will want for nothing—he will see to it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He takes her hand in his and then they are facing the archbishop. He repeats what he must, slides the ring onto her finger when prompted but beyond that, he cannot seem to focus on the archbishop’s words. All of his focus is on Clarke’s hand, warm in his own. Well, that and on his roving thoughts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why had he not been able to control himself? Why had he doomed her to the fate of marrying him? Will she ever forgive him? Can she ever learn to love him as he loves her? If only he had left London the day that he had told her he was leaving then they would not be here. She would probably be falling in love with the prince and preparing to marry him instead of entering into a loveless marriage with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy knows that he will do everything he can to make her happy but he also knows that he cannot give her the one thing that will truly make her happy—children. He knows that she says that she has accepted it but how long until she resents him for it? Does she already resent him for it? Does she hate him? Will she always hate him? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy plans to spoil Clarke in any and every manner, to do everything in his power to make it up to her. He will let her decide what their marriage shall be but he will lay down his life for her if she desires it. Anything to make up for his inability to give her the children that he desires. Anything he can do to try and make him hate himself just a little bit less.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You may now kiss the bride.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy bites his lip as he turns to Clarke once more. This is not their first kiss and he hopes that it will not be their last. He leans down and presses his lips to hers in a chaste kiss—nothing like their first kiss. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now they are married and she is his. Forever.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke manages to make it through the reception, though her blood is boiling. There is no longer any question in her mind—Bellamy is avoiding her. For the two days leading up to the wedding, she had convinced herself that it was because they were preparing for the wedding. But considering the fact that he has not spoken two words to her at their reception, she knows now that she was lying to herself. She is so stupid to think that maybe he did not completely hate her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had thought for sure that he could not hate her, not with the way that he spoke of her to the queen. Yes, she knows that he exaggerated his feelings but she had let herself hope that he would not completely hate her. Which is why she had broken away from the wedding and gone to her room. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her mama had found her there and she thinks that her mama had attempted to prepare her for her wedding night but she feels like she knows no more than she did when the day started. The only thing she knows is that whispered moment when Bellamy had told her that husbands and wives continue what she does when she touches herself—which she has done more frequently than she would like to admit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>But now she is standing in front of the home where she has spent so much of her life, preparing to leave on her honeymoon with her new husband. She says her goodbyes to her family and even gifts her room to Raven. Raven, who is so independent and unsure of how to make her way into the world because she wants something so different from what is expected of her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sighs as she allows Bellamy to help her into her carriage before he follows her inside. She waves goodbye to her family until she can no longer see them before settling back into her seat. Neither she nor Bellamy speaks and the silence stretches between them. Clarke wonders if she ought to take a nap just so that she does not have to sit here awkwardly not speaking to her husband.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy clears his throat causing Clarke to turn her eyes to him. “We should reach the inn by nightfall, I should think.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The inn?” Clarke questions. She had thought that they would travel to their new home—not spend their wedding night at an inn. “I did not know that we were staying at an inn tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy smiles but it looks forced. “Clyvedon is too far to make the trek this late in the day. The roads there are not well traveled at night, so I made arrangements for us to stay at an inn on the way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I see.” Clarke waits for him to say something else—anything else—but when he remains quiet she continues, “I think I might nap on the way then. I am quite exhausted.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets her eyes fall shut as she reminds herself to remain calm. Bellamy is angry with her for forcing him to marry her and she understands that. She just has to give him time. Eventually, he shall come to not hate her so. Or at least that is her hope. And with that thought she allows sleep to pull her under.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke does not wake until the carriage comes to a stop. She sits up, blinking as she tries to get her eyes to focus. It is dark outside and she cannot quite make out Bellamy’s face. She glances out the window to see that they have reached the inn. “I am sorry. I did not mean to sleep the entire way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is fine.” Bellamy smiles as the door to the carriage opens. “You were tired, I understand.” He steps out of the carriage before helping her to step down. They make their way into the inn.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The innkeeper leads them down the hallway. “I have made certain that your rooms were ready for you,” he tells them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Rooms?” Clarke asks as the innkeeper stops in front of a door and opens it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy glances down at her. “Of course, I arranged to have my own room.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Clarke forces a smile as she steps into the room. “Okay then.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The innkeeper continues down the hallway but Bellamy does not immediately follow. He stands just outside her door, eyes locked with hers for another moment before nodding and then following the innkeeper.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke swings the door shut, annoyed with Bellamy but not quite sure why. She had not expected to have her own room seeing as it is their wedding night. How are they to continue things, as Bellamy had put it, from separate rooms? And that is when Clarke realizes that her annoyance is from not knowing what he meant by that. She had expected to find out tonight and now it appears that she shall not.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What is the point of being married if they are in separate rooms? Why had they not just stayed in London? It does not make sense to her which once again spikes her annoyance. Is this what their marriage will be? Separate rooms and separate lives? Will she just be left to wander around their home on her own? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is not what she wanted. This is not what she wants from her marriage. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets her feet carry her back and forth, back and forth over the floor in front of the fire. She does not know what to do with herself, does not know how to tell Bellamy that this is not what she wants. Does she even have the right to demand more after she had forced him to marry her?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, she does. She has the right to ask for anything, just as he has the right to deny her. But he cannot deny her if she does not ask. Mind made up, Clarke moves to the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy paces the floor of his room, once again beating himself up. There had been something on Clarke’s face when she had stood just inside the door to her room and he had not known what to make of it. He still does not know what to make of it—or maybe it is better to say that he is afraid to put words to it, afraid to give himself hope. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had seemed so surprised to have her own room but he has no intention of forcing himself on her. Yes, he would love to show her everything that can be shared between a husband and a wife but he will not force that on her. It must be her decision. Hence the separate rooms. But does she even know that she has a decision to make if he has not told her?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy wants nothing more than to share a bed with her tonight—hell, every night for the rest of forever—but does he need to ask her? Will she ask if it is what she desires? Why is this so damned hard? He feels off-kilter, out of sorts. Never in his life has he ever felt so unsure of anything or anyone as he is about this situation and Clarke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the very least, they could have dinner, right? She must be hungry. And then maybe he can broach the subject from there, somehow? Yes, that sounds like a good plan. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy exits his room and heads to Clarke's room. He straightens his shoulders as he tries to remind himself that he is a grown man and that his wife is on the other side of this door. There is nothing odd about him asking her to share dinner with him. He takes a deep breath as he raises his hand to knock—only for the door to open in front of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He and Clarke blink at one another for a moment before Bellamy clears his throat. “I..uh..I was coming to see if you would join me for dinner.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke stares at him for a moment before huffing. “No, I do not wish to have dinner with you,” she growls as she spins around and walks away from him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Why in the seven hells is she so angry at him for asking her to dinner?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy shakes his head as he steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. He watches as she paces the room and he has no idea what in the hell is wrong. “Might I ask why my asking you to dinner has made you so angry?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke comes to a stop just mere feet from him, eyes blazing. “The problem is that this is our wedding night and we are spending it in separate rooms. My problem is that I forced you to marry me and you hate me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy stares at her in disbelief. She thinks that he hates her? How? Why?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do not hate you, Clarke, and you did not force me to marry you. I forced you to marry me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.” Clarke shakes her head, pausing. She is obviously just as confused as he is. “I do not hate you, Bellamy. I…” she trails off looking down at her fingers. “I love you. I know that you do not desire me but I had hoped...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy is frozen. She loves him? How is that possible? She thinks that he does not desire her? How wrong she is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did not...I never dared…” Jesus, he needs to get it together. “Clarke, I do not know how you could think I do not desire you. You consume me. I burn for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes jerk up to meet his and he sees the disbelief in her eyes. “Everything that I said to the queen? I meant it. Every single word. I just believed that you could never do anything but hate me after I forced you to marry me even though I could not give you children.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lips her lips. “I can live without children, Bellamy. The one thing I cannot live without is <em>you.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not know who moves first but suddenly Clarke is in his arms, their lips pressed together. He groans against her lips as he walks her backward until her back hits the wall. His hands roam her body, never pausing for long because he needs to feel all of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They kiss for what seems like forever before he breaks away from her. “Are you sure that this is what you want?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you sure it is what you want?” she returns, eyes full of desire.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He is answering before she has even finished asking, “More than anything in this world.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then there is your answer.” She keeps her eyes locked on his as she continues, “Though I do not know what to do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy laughs. “Do not worry, I know what to do and I will show you. I will show you everything. I will make you feel everything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy steps back, leading her to the center of the room before he helps her remove her dress. He stands behind her, pressing kisses to her shoulders as he undoes the laces to her corset. He kneels before her as he helps her out of her stockings and undergarments and then she is standing before him naked. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He can tell that she is shy about having his eyes on her naked body but she does not move to cover herself, for which he is most thankful. He pulls his shirt over his head before leaning down to lift her into his arms, kissing her as he walks her to the bed. He breaks the kiss to lay her gently upon the bed, letting his eyes rake over her body once more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So damn beautiful,” he mutters before climbing on the bed with her. He kisses her again and again and again until she is writhing beneath him. He wonders how wet she is for him, wonders if she is ready for him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Instead of sliding his hand down her body, he pulls back enough to ask her, “Did you touch yourself as I told you to?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes widen as her cheeks flush. “I...I…Yes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good.” Fuck. Bellamy had not thought that he could get any harder but he had been wrong. He lets his eyes slide shut at the thought of her touching herself but then he realizes he does not have to imagine. “Will you touch yourself for me? “</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I cannot,” Clarke starts as she shakes her head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you can.” Bellamy takes her hand in his and leads it between her legs. He lets go as she opens her legs a little wider as she slides her fingers in her folds. He cannot look away as he sees just how wet she is. She gathers her juices on her fingers before moving to her clit. She circles it slowly as her back arches off the bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Holy fucking hell. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She is going too slowly and he wants her now, but she has to be ready. He pushes her hand aside, replacing it with his own. He turns back to her. “If anything I do hurts, tell me. If you want to stop at any point, tell me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nods slowly. Bellamy presses a kiss to her lips quickly before ducking down to mouth at her neck, venturing down to her breasts as he wets his own fingers with her juices.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So fucking wet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His tongue flicks out over Clarke’s nipple as he slides his finger into her and they groan together. He takes her nipple into his mouth as he slides his finger in and out of her—she is so fucking tight. He turns his attention to her other breast as he adds a second finger. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke is going crazy beneath him, writhing under his mouth. He pulls away to watch as he adds a third finger. It is a tight fit but she does manage to take all three. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good girl,” he tells her as she preens at his words. He shoots her a grin before she moves down her body. He feels her tense beneath him and he is sure that she does not understand his intentions. But rather than explaining he just continues to fuck her with his fingers, his mouth hovering over her center for a moment before his tongue snakes out to lap at her clit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, Bellamy,” Clarke cries as her back arches off of the bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy continues to lap at her as he twists his wrist on the next thrust of his fingers and then she is falling apart under him. Bellamy grins as he continues to fuck her through her orgasm. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she collapses to the bed, panting Bellamy pulls his fingers from her before replacing them with his mouth. Clarke yelps as he laps at her juices. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She tastes so fucking good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He moans against her as her hands weave into his hair. He grinds against the bed. He wishes that he had the patience to continue this but they have forever. If he does not get his cock in her soon he might just come in his pants—which is not at all what he wants.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy pulls off of her reluctantly before making his way up her body and kissing her, letting her taste herself on his tongue. When he pulls away she whines which brings a smile to his lips as he lifts himself off of the bed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He keeps his eyes locked on Clarke as he undoes his pants and lets them fall to the floor. He watches as her eyes zero in on his cock and she licks her lips. When her eyes meet his he sees the apprehension in them but more than that he sees the desires. She wants this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy strokes himself for a moment as he watches her watch him but he really needs to get his cock inside of her. So he makes his way over to the bed and climbs on top of her. He keeps his eyes on hers as he guides himself into her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pushes in slowly, pausing when she winces and allowing her a chance to adjust to him. When she begins to wiggle below him once more he continues to press on. The next time she winces he does not stop because he knows that this part should be done quickly. He pulls back slightly before thrusting forward hard and fast and then he is fully seated in her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is okay, Clarke,” he tells her, the pain written all over her face. “It will not hurt for long.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gives her another few moments to adjust and then he is fucking into her. He tries to go slow—he really does—but he does not have it in him tonight. Her nails bite into the skin on his back as he pounds into her over and over. He lets his hand snake between them, rubbing frantically at her clit. He is so close and he wants her to come again before he does.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It does not take much for him to push her over the edge. She clamps down on him as she comes and Bellamy is barely able to remember to pull out, which he does quickly, stroking himself just a few times, and then he is coming all over her stomach. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fucking hell.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy collapses next to her as they both catch their breath. “I will clean you up in just a moment, I promise,” Bellamy tells her before he presses a quick kiss to her lips. “Just let me catch my breath.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke just hums her agreement. “I now understand why our mamas do not tell us what happens between a husband and wife.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because if they did, I do not know that we would be able to wait until we were married.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy laughs with Clarke before rising from the bed. He goes to the water basin and wets a cloth before coming back to the bed. He wipes her stomach clean first before using the cloth to clean between her legs. She winces only slightly when he does so and he hopes that she will not be too sore for too long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now that he has had her all he can think about is having her again.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>I cannot believe that I am sharing this news with you, but there has been another engagement in the Griffin household and it is not anyone that you would expect. Mr. Monty Griffin has announced his engagement to Miss Zoe Monroe, the niece of Lord McCreary. Neither of his elder brothers is married or betrothed and Mr. Griffin is quite young to be marrying but they both seem ecstatic at the news. Who would have thought that the Griffins would have two weddings this Season? It is unlikely that this particular couple will be in quite the rush that the duke and duchess were but I will be sure to keep you apprised of the details as they become available. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke did not realize just how enjoyable marriage could be or would be—even without the possibility of children. She has never known happiness such as this. Bellamy loves her and she loves him and they are happy. She thinks that should be enough. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Much of the following weeks are spent with them locked in passionate embraces. On the ride to Clyvedon Bellamy had pulled the curtains on the carriage before pushing her skirts up and having him ride his cock—that is what he said to call it and she thinks that she likes the word quite a lot as it sends a rush of heat between her legs—like he was a horse. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as they had made it into their home he had lifted her in his arms and carried her to their room where he had made love to her for hours. She would come to his office throughout the day and he would fuck her on the desk, against the wall, on the couch. He fucks her in the library on the table, hanging off of the moving ladder—even on the floor. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He fucks her in the stables. He fucks her on the dining room table. He even fucks her in the sitting room with her naked body pressed to the window as he fucks her from behind. There is not a room in the house that he does not fuck her in—at least none that are unoccupied by servants.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knows that the servants have to hear them, she has seen some of them shooting looks in her direction. She does not know if this is the usual way of a husband and wife but she cannot find it in herself to close. She loves the way he fucks her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She gets to know their tenants and she does what she can to make Bellamy’s job easier. There were some problems when they had first arrived. Apparently, the man that Bellamy had left in charge had not been handling things properly. Clarke does not fully understand how it all works but Bellamy assures her that everything is now running the way that it should.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They are nearing the end of their second week at Clyvedon when Clarke has had enough of the housekeeper Vera subtly insulting her. She does not understand what the woman’s problem is with her but she also knows that if she wants the household to run smoothly she needs the housekeeper to be on her side—after all, she is the one who makes sure that everything with the other servants is running as it should be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She invites Vera to tea and though she can tell that the older woman wants to say no she does not. Which is how Clarke finds herself sitting in the drawing-room, sipping at her tea as an uncomfortable silence fills the room. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wanted to thank you, Mrs. Kane,” Clarke begins. “You and the other servants have taken such good care of Clyvedon that there has been nothing that I need to do and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that. My mama always told me how hard a housekeeper’s job is and she told me to make sure that I make mine know how much I appreciate their hard work. And I do appreciate you, so I thought that maybe we could make this a weekly ritual between the two of us? A little tea and conversation between us as a thank you for all that you do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh.” Vera seems pleased with Clarke’s words as she nods. “It is just my job but I am very happy that you are pleased and I would love that very much, Your Grace.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke smiles as she nods. “You have worked here since the duke was a child, is that correct?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, Your Grace. I watched His Grace grow up,” she says. “At first it was just him and a tutor. His father was not meant to be a father. All he wanted was an heir and as soon as he had one, he left Clyvedon for London and never returned. Which left His Grace on his own but for us and his nannies and eventually his tutors since his mother died giving birth to him. At least until Lady Diyoza came to care for him and then Miss Octavia came along and then we had a full house and it was joyous.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I see.” Clarke nods slowly. She had not known any of this about her husband. She is just now realizing how little she knows about Bellamy. “It is awfully sad that he cannot have children then, seeing as he had such a bad childhood. I know that he would surely make sure that his children were never raised as he was.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Vera bites her lip before she replies, “I know that it is not my business so please feel free to not answer but you say he cannot have children? Does that mean that he does not have strong seed? They had feared that with his father when it took so long for he and His Grace’s mother took so long to conceive.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Seed? Clarke does not understand and she once again curses her mama for not better preparing her. “This is going to make me sound very naive and perhaps a bit slow but my mama was never very good at sharing information about topics that made her uncomfortable, but could you explain to me exactly how a child is conceived. I understand that it is through….passionate embraces,” she settles on after a moment, “but beyond that?”</p>
<p> 
Vera looks scandalized, her cheeks a bright red but she nods. “Yes, Your Grace. During your embraces, the man fills you with his seed and that seed is what the baby comes from.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh,” Clarke mutters, paling as she takes that in. Bellamy never fills her with his seed. He always pulls out and spreads it across her body. She had thought that was just the way of things but from what Vera is saying that is not the case. But does that mean…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Vera. I just wanted to make sure that I understood correctly.” Clarke forces a smile before allowing the older woman to change the topic. She does her best to continue the conversation but her mind is elsewhere now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Because she has a sinking feeling that things in her marriage are not what she thought they were. She is beginning to think that her husband has been lying to her from day one.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy sighs as he opens the door to his and Clarke’s room. He is exhausted. He had spent the day touring the farms on his lands, trying to figure out a way to make them more profitable. He should not have stayed away from Clyvedon for so long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy glances up to find Clarke lying on her side on their bed. She looks beautiful with her curls spilling over her shoulders, her nightgown is white and mostly transparent and he is immediately hard. He pulls his shirt over his head as he stalks to the bed, dropping his pants to the floor without stopping. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He climbs onto the bed and between Clarke’s legs, pressing his lips to hers. He lets himself sink into the kiss, all of his worries melting away as he loses himself to her. When she pushes against his shoulder he breaks the kiss and rolls onto his back as she continues to push him. 
 </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once he is flat on his back Clarke is on her knees, straddling him as she pulls her nightgown over her head. He grins up at her as she takes his cock in her small hand, stroking him slowly and with purpose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just two weeks before Clarke had been a blushing virgin and now she is taking control, doing and taking what she wants. And he could not be happier about it. He watches as she rises up, lining him up with her center before sinking down on him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fuck,” he mutters. She feels so fucking good on his cock. When she begins to move he thinks that his head might explode. His eyes zero in on her breasts as they bounce and move along with her as she rides his cock. She starts out slowly but before long she is fucking down on him hard and fast. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He needs her to slow down or he is going to come inside of her and he cannot do that. His hands land on her hips heavily as he tells her, “Slow down, Clarke.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Clarke either does not hear him or does not care as she keeps going. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke?” Bellamy is beginning to panic. “I need you to…” Oh fuck, she feels so fucking good. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy cannot help himself as she grinds down on his cock and he comes, squeezing his cock from the inside. He tries to hold off but he cannot. He spills himself inside of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sits atop him, eyes watching him as he begins to freak out. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Shit. Clarke. You cannot. We cannot.” Bellamy shakes his head. “Why did you do that? Why did you not stop?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anger blossoms across Clarke’s face as climbs off of him and out of the bed. “Because I needed to know if the man that I had married was a liar. It is not that you cannot give me children, is it Bellamy? It is that you will not give me children.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I...I…” Bellamy does not even know what to say to her right now. His mind is too busy worrying over the fact that he had just come inside of her. She could end up pregnant and then the vow he had sworn to his father on his deathbed would be broken. “I do not know what you wish me to say.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tears fill Clarke’s eyes as she shakes her head. “I do not need you to say anything. What you are not saying says it all.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then she is gone, leaving him alone to try and figure out what the hell had happened.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Do I have some news for you—it is so scandalous that at first I did not believe it but there is no denying it. Miss Zoe Monroe is with child. And as if that is not scandalous enough on its own, it would appear that she has been with child since the moment she stepped foot in London. Which means that the child is not that of her betrothed, Mr. Monty Griffin. Whether she knew it before she came to London or not she and the rest of the McCrearys must have known at some point and still she continued on a search for a husband with whom she could pass the child off as theirs. A very dishonorable thing indeed. The poor Griffins did not need any more scandal this season but it seems that they cannot avoid it. I am sure that there will be more to share on this situation in the future. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>It has been two weeks since the night that Clarke had discovered the truth of Bellamy’s betrayal—two weeks since they have shared a word. She has moved into her own rooms and she takes her meals in there. Bellamy seems to be just as angry with her as she is with him. She does not understand why he would refuse to have children with her and to go as far as telling her she cannot have them. To do everything he can to avoid her becoming pregnant, using her naivety to his advantage. She does not know if she can forgive him this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But after reading the day’s Lady Whistledown she knows that she must return to London with her husband—which means that she shall have to speak with him. She makes her way to his office, knocking lightly before pushing the door open.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She does not immediately meet his gaze, her eyes going to the desk that he had bent her over and fucked her until she had fallen apart three times. The chair where she had ridden him for almost an hour as she learned what she liked best. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is there something that you needed?” Bellamy’s voice is cold as he speaks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shakes her head to clear it of those memories. Those times are long gone and at this rate shall never be repeated. She walks over to his desk and sets the Lady Whistledown for him to read. “Monty is in some trouble and I need us to return to London. We cannot handle any further scandal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy takes a moment to read the paper before handing it back to her. “Of course. We can leave in the morning.” He does not look at her but it is obvious that he is dismissing her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good.” She spins on her heel and heads for the door but not before muttering, “Arrogant ass.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>London should be a blast. There they will not be able to just avoid one another. There they will have to pretend to be the in-love couple that they are supposed to be. It breaks Clarke’s heart all over again when she thinks back to not even a month ago when they had confessed their love for one another. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wonders if they will ever move past this and then she wonders if she even wants to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
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    <p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>It has come to my attention that the Duke and Duchess of Hastings are on their way back from Clyvedon. It was not expected that they would make it back to London before the Season ended as it calls their honeymoon to an end early. I am sure that it is not what the newlyweds wished but one can only assume that the scandal involving the former Miss Griffin’s brother has brought them back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Will the arrival of the duke and the duchess cause people to forget the scandal? I think not but it will give them something else to speak of—which I would venture to guess is their plan. It is a smart one. I am also sure that they wish to wipe clean the Griffin name so that it does not tarnish their own. But I guess only time will tell. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sits up a little straighter in her seat as they near her family home. She truly has missed her family but more than that, she will be happy to be able to remove herself from her husband’s company for just a bit. The ride from Clyvedon had been an uncomfortable and silent one. She and Bellamy are still not speaking unless it is absolutely necessary. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knows that at some point something will have to change—they cannot continue as they are forever. But they are both stubborn and neither wants to admit that they were wrong—she knows that she does not feel like she was in the wrong and she is sure that he feels the same. She does not know how they will fix this break in their marriage. They might never again have a marriage in more than just name—though the idea breaks her heart. She just hopes that she is with child as she fears that this is her one and only opportunity to be so.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke pushes open the carriage door before it has come to a full stop. She climbs out quickly, sighing in relief that they have finally arrived. She spins around as she hears Bellamy begin to climb from the carriage. “There is no need for you to join me,” she informs him, voice cold. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course, I will. Your family will expect that I will be with you.” Bellamy frowns as he looks down at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rather than answer Clarke slams the carriage door in his face, smiling for a moment at the look of shock on his face. “It is my family that faces scandal, therefore it will be I that rectifies it. I am neither in need of nor desire your assistance or your company for that matter.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Without waiting for a response, she turns on her heel and hurries up the stairs to her family home. She throws open the door and calls out, “Mama?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is silent for but a moment and then there is a loud clatter followed by a stampede of feet against the floor. Suddenly her entire family—minus Charlotte who is still visiting their aunt—is there and pulling her in for hugs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tears fill Clarke’s eyes as she is passed from brother to brother, from sister to sister, and finally to her mama. Abby’s hands squeeze Clarke’s cheek for a moment as she just looks at her before pulling her in for a tight hug. “You have been missed around here, Clarke. Truly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After weeks of mostly silence at Clyvedon, it feels wonderful to have such a warm welcome from her family. She lets her mama lead her to the sitting room, Madi and Ethan peppering her with questions that she tries to answer the best that she can but they are asking a new question before she has even had a chance to finish answering the previous one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All right, children.” Abby claps her hands. “Charlotte, Ethan, please go play elsewhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But Mama,” Madi whines.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not start with my child, so help me.” Abby frowns as she turns to her youngest daughter. “The adults need to speak and you need to be elsewhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Neither child looks happy about it but they do run from the room, allowing Clarke a chance to breathe. She turns to her mama. “How bad is it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is not good,” Abby says hesitantly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not good?” Roan laughs. “Monty has made us the laughing stock of the ton.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As if you had not already done that,” Murphy smirks from the sofa where he has made himself comfortable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, reminding herself to remain calm. She turns to Monty. “Do you have anything you would like to add?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty frowns and Clarke can see the pain in his eyes. He had truly cared for Zoe and she had just been using him to cover up her own mistakes. She hates her for that. She can understand why she had tried to pass the baby off as another man’s but she does not think she can forgive the hurt that Zoe has caused her brother.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did not know, Clarke. I did not,” he finally says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course not, how could you?” Clarke reaches over to squeeze her brother’s hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby huffs behind her. “Are you not planning to tell her that you were about to run off with the little harlot to elope when Lady Whistledown broke the news? If it were not for Lady Whistledown you would be married to that girl and she would be attempting to pass off that child as yours.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not speak of her that way.” Monty bristles before turning to Clarke. “Sister, I am glad that you are home but I cannot do this now.” He pulls his hand from hers and rushes from the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sighs as she turns back to her mama. “Was that really necessary?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well did you not want all of the facts?” Abby frowns. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did but you needed not chastise him, Mama. He is a grown man.” Clarke lifts her hand to her head as it has already begun to pound. “It is obvious that he cared for the girl and he is hurting. All of you need to give him a break—I assure you that he is aware that he messed up. All of you need to stop giving him so much grief over it and let him grieve his heartbreak.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raven leans around Murphy to grin at Clarke. “I am so happy that you are home, Clarke. They have been driving me absolutely insane. All they will talk about is the scandal.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am happy to see you as well Raven but do not be mistaken—the only reason that I have returned to London is because of the scandal.” She sighs. “But you need not worry. Now that the duke and I have returned, people will turn their talk to us. Eventually, they will forget about this. In the meantime, can everyone just behave?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No one speaks as they all just stare back at her and she realizes that she could have chosen her words better. Unfortunately, the last few weeks with the duke and her fighting have left her feeling a bit on edge and therefore, her words have come out harsher than she had intended. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am going to speak to Monty for a bit. I shall stay for dinner before returning home if that is all right with you, Mama.” When her mama nods but does not speak Clarke laughs to herself as she turns to follow her brother. She loves her family with all of her heart but sometimes they can be just so frustrating.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She is unable to find Monty when she searches the house but one of the servants lets her know that he was seen going out the back door. Clarke pushes open the back door, scanning the area for any sign of Monty. She finds him walking the garden, eyes on the ground as he just paces back and forth. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Monty,” she calls out to him when she gets closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty’s head shoots up and he forces a smile that she knows is for her benefit. “Clarke, I promise that I am fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are not but I know that you will be.” Clarke pauses. “But that is not why I am here. Have you spoken to Miss Monroe since it became known that she was with child?” When Monty shakes his head, she continues, “Would you like to?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty frowns as he considers her. “I do not know. I do not know what I would say.” He pauses and she can tell that he is thinking it over in his head. “But yes, I guess I would like the chance.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, then I shall send for her and have her meet us out here so that you can have that chance to say whatever you feel the need to say. Without the rest of the family having their say,” Clarke adds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Monty does not sound sure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A good idea?” Clarke makes a face. “Probably not but I care not. What I care about is the fact that you are hurt and that she is the one that hurt you. You should at the very least have a chance to speak with her—with me as a chaperone, of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty hesitates before answering, “I think I would like that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then consider it done.” Clarke shoots him a quick smile before heading back inside. She asks one of the servants to visit the McCrearys’ with a note that she quickly scrawls out before making her way back outside. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They do not have to wait long—no more than a quarter of an hour—before Zoe is pushing open the gate to their gardens. She hesitates for a moment when her eyes land on Clarke but she lifts her chin and pushes forward—something that improves Clarke’s opinion of her—if only slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Monty,” Zoe says quietly as she approaches.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why?” Monty demands. “I need to know why.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zoe looks at him for a moment, tears in her eyes. “You have to ask why? I found myself unwed and unattached while with child. You were kind and I knew that you would love the baby and me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty scoffs, his anger apparent in his stance and the tick in his jaw. Clarke can count on one hand the number of times she has seen him truly angry. “If you had but told me, I would have married you—no questions asked. I believed myself to be in love with you—what a fool I am. I would have done anything for you but you chose to deceive me. That is not forgivable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But how could I have known that?” Zoe begs him. “I could not be sure-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, I do not want to hear it, Miss Monroe.” Monty shakes his head and Clarke sees Zoe wince when he does not use her given name. “I just needed to hear the why—not listen to you try and reason why what you did was the <em>right</em> thing to do. Goodbye.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And with that Monty strides back into the house as Zoe’s tears begin to fall. “I am sorry, can you tell him that?” she asks as she turns to face Clarke. It is obvious to Clarke that while Zoe might not love Monty, she does care for him and his opinion of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nods. “I do not believe that he is ready to hear it but I will make sure that he knows. Take care, Miss Monroe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your Grace.” Zoe nods her head before heading back from whence she came.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy pushes open the door to the house—his house, he reminds himself—and sighs with relief when he realizes that all of the lights have been doused. He had not meant to stay out so late but he also had not wanted to deal with Clarke. He is still so angry with her but that does not stop the burning desire inside of him for her. It is honestly driving him mad—<em>she</em> is driving him mad.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He stumbles slightly on the stairs, cursing himself as he barely manages to keep himself upright. It is possible that he might have slightly overdone the drinking with Lincoln but had needed some kind of release that did not involve his own hand. He manages to make it up to the second floor and is about halfway to his room when a door opens and he spins around to find Clarke staring back at him,—once again barely keeping his balance. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So is this what our marriage shall be from now on?” she demands. “You staying out until all hours of the night, coming home drunk?” She pauses. “Were you with another woman?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy winces at the fear and hurt in her voice. He shakes his head as he steps toward her but forces himself to stop short of actually touching her—he must remember what it is that she had done. “Do you really think so little of me, Clarke?” So, maybe she is not the only one that is hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What else am I supposed to think?” she asks him as tears fill her eyes. “We are practically strangers living in the same house, only speaking when we must. You are a man with needs. If you are not fulfilling those needs with me then I would expect that you would be fulfilling them elsewhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not think as he steps toward her, crowding her against the wall with his body. He wants to let his eyes fall shut at the feel of her body against his but he keeps them locked on Clarke’s. “After you, all other women pale in comparison.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s mouth drops open and he can read the desire in her eyes—in her body. He does not think, he just acts as he crashes his lips against hers. She moans into the kiss as he deepens it, hands clawing at his back as she tries to get closer to him—as if that were possible. Bellamy’s hands fall to her hips and then under the back of her thighs as he lifts her, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy breaks the kiss to press his lips to her neck. He must have his mouth on her—he will die if he does not taste her. He turns and moves towards the stairs to the third floor, giving no thought to the servants that could catch them at any moment. He lays her back onto the stairs as he lowers himself to his knees, their eyes locked as he pushes up the skirts of her nightgown.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He places his hands on her inner thighs gently before pushing them apart roughly. Only then does he break eye contact as his eyes fall between her legs. She is wet—so wet—he can see it from here. He licks his lip as he pushes her legs apart even farther. He glances back up at her once more before lowering his head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy presses soft kisses to her thigh, starting just above her knee and working his way up as she shudders beneath him. He grins as he hooks one of her legs over his shoulder, using his hand to keep her other one spread for him. His tongue darts out, circling the area around her clit but not touching it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s hips are already moving beneath his hold and he has not so much as touched her. Instead of giving her what she wants, he drops his head lower and licks a stripe up her slit. He moans because she tastes fucking amazing and he has missed her taste—he had not been lying when he had told her that no other woman could compare to her. He laps at her like a dying man, tongue fucking into her as he brings one of his hands up, thumb just brushing her clit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke cries out, hips jutting forward as she grinds down against his face. His returning groan vibrates against her as he continues to feast on her. Her hands find the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair and pulling—hard.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fuck. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy pulls from her for a moment before he sucks her clit between his lips as he slides one and then two fingers inside of her. He does not bother starting slow, setting a fast pace from the start because he knows that she is close. He flicks his tongue in a just barely there motion across her clit and he feels her tightening around his fingers. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He picks up the pace, even more, grinning at the sound of her wetness as his fingers continue to move in and out of her. Her hips grind down against his fingers, rocking back and forth as she chases her orgasm. He glances up at her and she is so fucking beautiful with her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. And then she is coming around his fingers, panting out his name like it is a prayer. He pulls his fingers from her, ducking his head to replace them with his tongue. She spasms around his tongue as he laps up all of her juices, moaning with her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she collapses back against the stairs he finally pulls back. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth as she pushes down her skirts and sits up, leaning toward him. “Shall we take this to the bedroom to continue?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy jerks away as if she had slapped him. How could he have forgotten himself? He wishes that he could blame the alcohol but he knows that it is not what is to blame—it is his burning desire for his wife. He is halfway down the hallway before he realizes how far he has backed away, shaking his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This should not have happened,” he tells her. “It was a mistake and it is one that I shall not repeat. That part of our marriage is over. We shall remain married in name only while we live our separate lives.” He lets his eyes fall to the hand that she has rested on her midsection. “I will remain until we know if you are with child or not. After that, we do not even have to be in the same city, let alone the same house.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy clenches his jaw at the hurt in her eyes, the tears that begin to stream down her cheeks. He turns away because he cannot bear to see her in such pain. When she calls out to him he ignores it, pushing into his room and slamming the door behind him. He leans back against it, angry with himself. How could he have let that happen? How could he have been so weak? He had almost taken her in the hallway and that is a mistake that he shall not make. He cannot allow her another chance to become with child. If she is not pregnant now, then she never shall be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he can never forgive her for what she has done, can he? Forcing him to finish inside of her and possibly impregnating her. Indeed, he might not have been upfront with her on what he meant about not being able to give her children but she has broken his trust and he is not a forgiving man. The sooner they figure out if she is with child, the better. Because if she is not he will be leaving London as soon as possible.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>I know that many of you might be asking yourself how the McCrearys are fairing the scandal brought upon them by one Miss Zoe Monroe. The answer is simply put—not well. Their invitations to most events have been revoked, so even if they choose to show their faces they would not be welcomed. I am quite sure that the baroness is not taking this well at all. Having to stay locked in her house with her three daughters, Miss Monroe, and a husband that may or may not have a gambling problem. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is really no wonder that none of his daughters have married yet. It has reached my ears that there is no dowry to offer to any interested suitors because the baron has gambled it all away. It sounds to me like the McCrearys are on their way to ruin. Only time will tell. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke forces a smile as she steps into the palace gardens, arm looped through that of her husband. Her hope is that she shall be able to separate from him quickly. They have fallen back into the pattern of ignoring one another until they must be together—then all they can do is bicker.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You act as if I asked you to give me your kidney,” she mutters under her breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy is also smiling as he tells her, “You might as well have. You know that I have no desire to be at these events.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I care not, husband. We are here to fix my family’s name and I cannot do it on my own,” she bites out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is not what you said when we arrived at your family’s home the other day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course you throw that in my face,” Clarke begins, breaking off when Lady Diyoza appears in front of them. “Lady Diyoza, it is wonderful to see you.” She wonders if her words sound as fake as they feel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is good to see the two of you as well. I do hope that the honeymoon went well.” She lifts an eyebrow at Clarke but does not bother to wait for an answer. “I would like to invite you to a little get-together that I am having tomorrow night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, Clarke and I are not really accepting invitations at the moment,” Bellamy begins but Lady Diyoza cuts him off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was speaking to Clarke—not you.” She blinks at him for a moment before turning her attention back to Clarke. “It is just something for the married ladies of the ton and since you are now married I can now invite you, and I would be delighted if you could come.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke tries to think of a reason to refuse but she cannot, so instead, she just nods. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you for the invitation.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as Lady Diyoza has departed Clarke’s smile drops for just a moment. “You and I need to stop fighting in public. My family is noticing.” She nods behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sees Bellamy glance over her shoulder with a frown. “Fine but if you are going to accept an invitation on my behalf, please tell me before the morning of.” And then he is gone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets out a sigh of relief. Now that her husband is no longer here she feels like she can breathe—which is terrible but she guesses that it is her life now. She turns her head when she hears a ruckus, finding Sidney, Roma, Bree, and Harper McCreary standing there while everyone stares. One of the royal servants makes their way over to them and after a moment, in which Clarke thinks that the baroness might make a scene, they depart. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Make that two things she no longer has to worry about. She looks around at the people talking and she just cannot do this right now. She presses a hand to her stomach as she ducks into the maze within the garden. She walks until she finds an open area that is empty. Now she really feels as if she can finally breathe. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets her eyes fall shut as she tries to clear her mind. She might not wish to be here but this is where she must be. She lets her mind wander for a moment as her hand finds its way to her midsection once more. Could she be with child? What she has done is already done and Bellamy has made it abundantly clear that he will never forgive her for it—even if she was able to let go of the hurt and betrayal she feels at him lying to her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tears prick at her eyes as she forces herself to take another deep breath. She hates this, all of it—the fighting, the pain, the betrayal, the anger, but the worst of it is that she still loves him. And she does not know that he still loves her. She wishes she knew how they could move past it and move on with their marriage—and not lead separate lives as Bellamy has suggested. The mere thought of it makes her feel sick to her stomach. A life when she only sees her husband—her love—only once every few months, if that? It gnaws at her. How did they come to this? How did this become her life?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke? Darling, what are you doing out here by yourself? What is wrong?” Abby lays a hand on Clarke’s shoulder and she jerks away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke spins to face her mama, not bothering to hide her tears as anger courses through her. She takes all of the weeks of pent-up anger and unleashes it on her mama—though she knows that her mama does not deserve the brunt of her anger. “Why did you not better prepare me, Mama? Why did you not tell me what it really meant to be married? What was involved with being a wife? How could you let me go into this so unprepared?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby opens and closes her mouth a few times, obviously confused and unsure of what to say. “Darling, I tried my best to prepare you. I did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You did not!” Clarke yells as the tears spill over. “You should have told me what actually goes on between a husband and wife. If you had, I might not be where I am right now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you mean, Clarke?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Someone clears their throat and Clarke jerks her head up to find Lady Diyoza standing there, understanding in her eyes. Clarke shakes her head and takes off at a run. She cannot do this. She cannot live this life today—not when her marriage and what it means for her is so up in the air. She will have to help her family in another way. Right now, she needs to be at home alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except on her way home she decides that there is a stop she needs to make. Zoe has been on her mind and Clarke decides that now would be as good of a time as any visit seeing as everyone else is busy at the queen’s luncheon. The maid that answers the door seems surprised at Clarke’s presence but leads her to the sitting room and Zoe joins her soon after. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your Grace?” Zoe asks when she finds Clarke in the sitting room. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke gives her a small smile. “I was hoping that you and I could have a chat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zoe cautiously makes her way over, sitting across from Clarke. “A chat about what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sighs as the maid comes in, setting tea down for them. She waits until the maid is gone before continuing, “I understand not wanting to conform to society and what it is like to have rigid expectations put upon me.” She shakes her head. “With that being said, I just thought that you could use a friend.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A friend?” Zoe sounds shocked. “I did not think that you of all people would wish to befriend me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Everyone makes mistakes, Miss Monroe, and while I do not appreciate my family being dragged into this scandal, I do understand why you did what you did.” Clarke pauses. “If I found myself in a similar position, I do think that I would have done the same thing. It is not our fault that society expects perfection from us. It is never the man that this falls on—only on us. So we must stand together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They talk for a bit and Clarke learns about the man that Zoe was involved with, Myles Mbege, and that she is still very much in love with him. She learns of the unanswered letters that Zoe has sent to Myles. He is serving in Spain as part of the British army, and Clarke wonders if she might be able to get a message to the general. She tells her of the party that she shall be attending and maybe the general’s wife shall be there and if she is Clarke will try to see if she cannot sway the general.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe we can get the general to allow him to come home and correct his mistake,” Clarke tells Zoe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you really think that you could do that?” Zoe asks her, hope apparent in her words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shrugs. “I will not know until I try, but try I shall.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Your Grace.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Clarke. Please call me Clarke.” Clarke smiles, patting Zoe’s hand. She might not be able to fix her own life and her marriage but maybe she can help Zoe fix her life.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy leans back in his chair and takes a long drink of whiskey as he eyes Roan. His friend has been acting oddly since he arrived. It is quite obvious that he has something that he wishes to say and yet they have been sitting in silence for at least ten minutes. Finally, he can take it no longer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will you please just say what it is that you wish to say?” Bellamy asks as he sets the glass down harder than necessary. He is on edge and it has nothing to do with Roan but Roan is here, so why not direct his frustrations toward him? It might not be healthy but maybe it will make him feel at least a little better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan sighs. “What is going on with you and my sister?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy makes a face. “What goes on between me and my wife is none of your concern.” Of course, Roan wants to discuss Clarke—the one topic that Bellamy would like to avoid at all costs. And it is most definitely not a topic he wishes to discuss with her brother even if he was interested in speaking of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are wrong there,” Roan says as he leans forward. “Just because she is your wife does not mean she is no longer my sister. There is obviously something going on, so what have you done wrong?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What makes you think that it is I that has done something wrong?” Bellamy laughs, though there is no humor to it. “Oh, that is right. Clarke is perfect and can do no wrong. So of course it must be all my fault.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not put words into my mouth, Bellamy.” Anger flashes in Roan’s eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy leans forward, smirking. “That is exactly what you have said but no worries, I am aware how perfect you all believe her to be.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Watch yourself, Hastings.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How many times must I tell you that is not my name?” Bellamy is seething and he knows that very little of his anger has anything to do with Roan—but easy targets and all that. “I would get your own house in order before you worry about putting your nose into mine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan’s jaw clenches. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, I am sorry, was I not clear?” Bellamy lifts the glass to his lips and takes another long drink, enjoying the burn as it goes down—it emboldens him. “It is because of your lack of ability to control your siblings that led not only to my marriage to your sister but the scandal that has befallen the Griffin name. I had to leave my home to return to London so that I could save your ass.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan is on his feet in a second. “I do not need you to save me. I am perfectly capable of taking care of my family and I do not appreciate you insinuating anything beyond that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy sets down his glass as he tilts his head to his side. “I was not insinuating anything. I was telling you that you do not know how to run a household. It is because of you that your family is in a mess and on the verge of ruin. Your father would be ashamed of you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Roan moves so quickly that Bellamy almost does not see the fist flying at his face but he does—and he lets it land. As his head flies backward he grins. He stands up quickly and licks the blood from his lip. He knows that this is not the place for a fight and yet, he cannot find it in himself to care. He pulls back his arm and throws it forward, catching Roan’s jaw with his punch. They both get in a few more punches before they are being pulled apart. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Bellamy gets removed from the club he is still grinning. Maybe a fight is exactly what he needs. He shall go see if Lincoln is free.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Would you believe that there were fisticuffs at the gentleman’s club just yesterday afternoon? That is not usually the place where fists are thrown but apparently, there were heated words before a punch was ever thrown. Who were the culprits, you ask? None other than Viscount Roan Griffin and brother-in-law Duke Bellamy Blake. What was the argument over? That is a very good question that I do not currently have an answer to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though I do have theories. Has anyone else noticed the tension between the duke and the duchess? Could this be what caused the argument? Could it have been the scandal currently attached to the Griffin name? While I have not been able to find out for certain, I would lean more towards it having to do with the marriage of the former Miss Griffin. After all, the eldest Griffin has always been protective of his siblings. It makes me wonder what exactly is going on in that marriage. Hopefully, I will be able to find out soon. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sighs as she makes her way upstairs. She has just made it home following Lady Diyoza’s get-together which had been much more than that. Gambling, drinking, and smoking—all very unladylike behaviors, and Clarke had the most wonderful time—she had loved every moment with the other women. She found out that many women live separately from their husbands—such as the general’s wife, which is unfortunate for her and her plans. She had suggested that Clarke write a letter to her husband with her request—she has a better chance of a response than his own wife. </p>
<p>She wonders if that is what her marriage is to become—she fears that it is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She notices that the door to Bellamy’s room is ajar and the light is on. She pauses, knowing that she should just keep going to her own room. She does not need another fight with her husband ruining the good mood she is in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And yet she cannot seem to stop herself, her feet moving of their own accord to the doorway. She peers inside and finds him sitting in the chair, wiping at a cut on his face. “What happened?” she demands, pushing open the door and rushing over to him. She takes the cloth from him and wets it in the bowl of water that sits beside him before moving to take over cleaning up his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was training with Lincoln,” he tells her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke frowns. “Like you did yesterday after you and Roan got into a fight at the club?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You heard about that?” Bellamy winces and she does not think that it is because of her touch. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who did not?” Clarke laughs as she steps back. “Lady Whistledown reported it this morning. I think it does not need stitches.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is good because I was not planning on getting any.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke sets down the cloth, knowing that she should leave but she instead asks, “What is it that made you and Roan fight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You.” Bellamy will not meet her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He noticed that we were having problems and of course, blamed me.” Bellamy shakes his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke rolls her eyes. “I will be sure to tell him to mind his business from now on.” She stands there for another moment before turning to go, but Bellamy’s hand on her arm stops her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I miss you,” he tells her quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pain wrenches at her heart. “I miss you too,” she tells him without turning around.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pulls on her arm and suddenly she is in his arms and his lips are on hers. She throws herself in the kiss—she has missed him, and this, so much. He deepens the kiss, pulling a moan from her. When they break apart they are both panting. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But even though I miss you, it does not change what is,” Bellamy tells her as he leans his forehead against hers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets her eyes fall shut as they fill with tears. Why must everything be so complicated? “Can you at the very least tell me why it is that you are so set on never having children?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She can feel him pulling away from her even though his arms are still wrapped around her. “I made a vow to my father on his deathbed that I would be the last of his line,” he tells her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke frowns, unsure that she has heard him correctly. She pulls away from him, his arms falling to his side as she does so. “But you are not the end of his line Bellamy. You have a sister who has children.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But they will never be the Duke of Hastings,” he argues.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is not how that works, Bellamy. As soon as you die, who do you think the estate is going to go to? Do you really think that your father did not list his bastard children when he had only you as an heir?” Clarke laughs, shaking her head. “You made a useless vow to a dying man and that is the reason that you are willing to break the vows that you made to me? I cannot believe this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had been angry with him before but now? She does not know that she has ever been so angry in her life. “You are a fool, Bellamy. And to think that I was so close to being ready to forgive you. You are a petty man who deserves to be alone.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With that, Clarke turns and rushes from the room, ignoring him when he calls after her. She slams the door to her room harder than she had intended but she is already cursing herself. Could she not have waited to yell at him? She had wanted his signature on the letter to the general but there is no way she is asking him for anything after that conversation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Annoyed with herself and beyond angry with her husband Clarke sits at her desk and begins to write the letter. Hopefully, her signature alone will be enough because she now knows that her marriage is beyond repair. She must help Zoe in any way possible. Upon finishing the letter she climbs into bed and finally allows herself to cry. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Over the next few days, she and Bellamy go back to ignoring one another. Every time she sees him the anger races through her again and all she can do is be thankful that they have not had any events to attend, though they have agreed to go with the opera with her mama and Lady Diyoza in two days time, so that should be a wonderful time for all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The only upside to her life and the mess that it has become is that she still has not had her courses. She thinks that she just might be with child and the idea is the only shining light in the darkness that is her life right now. </p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy straightens his jacket before heading to Clarke’s room. He hates what they have become but not nearly as much as he hates how she had blown apart his perfectly worked out reasoning on why he could not have children. The day after their fight he had reached out to his solicitor and she was right. When he dies everything will go to Nicholas—regardless of what he and Octavia want. He had been so sure that he would be the end of the line, so sure that his father would never write his sister’s children into his will. Or that somehow he and Octavia would be able to prevent it from happening. How could he have been so ignorant?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So not only is he angry with himself but he is once again angry with Clarke—because it means that all of their arguments have been for naught. At this point, he does not know that they can ever come back from everything that has been done and said between them. He stops in the doorway to Clarke’s room and watches her for a moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke stands in front of the mirror, hands on her stomach as she turns this way and that. He assumes that she is imagining what it would be like if she is pregnant. Pain tugs at his heart that he has almost taken this from her. He knows that her courses have still not come and there is still a chance that she is with child. And if she is? Then what? Do they become the family that he never allowed himself to imagine? If she is not, will they try again? He does not think so. He does not think that she will ever forgive him—hell, he does not know that he will forgive himself. There is so much anger between the two of them and they can not seem to speak with one another without losing their tempers. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He cannot believe what they have become.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy clears his throat causing Clarke to start. “Are you ready to go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I will be just another few minutes,” Clarke tells him without turning around. “I shall meet you at the carriage.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay.” Bellamy stands there for another moment feeling like he should say something more but what can he say? He cannot bring himself to tell her that she had been right and he had been wrong. And what does that say of him? He sighs as he turns and heads downstairs. He does not know how to get them out of this mess.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>True to her word, Clarke climbs into the carriage not five minutes later. The ride to the opera is not long but it is silent and stilted. Even with all that they have said to one another, there is still so much unsaid between them. He hates Clarke’s stiff posture, the way that she refuses to look at him—choosing to stare out the window rather than chance a meeting of their eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They force smiles as she allows him to help her from the carriage and then slips her arm in his. They join the dowager viscountess and Lady Diyoza in her box, all while never speaking a word to one another. They sit beside one another as if they were strangers. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Clarke jumps from her seat and dashes to the sitting room off of their box, he considers following but thinks better of it at the last minute. He knows that she would not appreciate it—it is just his first response to follow her when she leaves. As the music slows and quiets he can hear Clarke sobbing and watches as her mother scrambles from her chair to check on her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy lets his eyes fall shut as they fill with tears—not only at hearing Clarke sob but because he knows what that means. Clarke’s courses must have started which means that she is not with child and she believes this to be her only chance at having a child. His heart feels as if it is being squeezed in a vice. For someone who had sworn that he did not want children, the pain he feels is extreme. Had he hoped that she was with child? He thinks a small part of him did. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wipes away a tear that falls and hates himself for the pain that he is causing Clarke. There must be a way to right this and he will find it. He cannot stand to see her in this much pain and it is all his fault. He must repair them somehow.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Still no word on a baby for the Duke and Duchess of Hastings. It would appear that there will be no honeymoon baby for them but I am sure that they will not allow this to prevent them from continuing their efforts. Unless this is the reason for the tension in their marriage? I still have been unable to find out what has caused it—though it does appear that at least in public there is less tension. Will there be a new little future duke on its way soon? One can only hope. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy stands stiffly, wishing that he was anywhere but here right now. The artist, who asked to only be called by his surname Miller, keeps wincing when he looks up at them. Bellamy wants to huff in annoyance each time he does it. What is his problem? Why does he wince and then say nothing?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is not working,” Miller finally says. “The two of you are just too stiff—too formal. There is no <em>you</em> in this portrait.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy glances down at Clarke who sits as stiff as he stands. She will not look at him and he cannot even blame her. After she had returned to their box the night before she had refused to look or speak to him and it has been like that all of today as well. He knows that she is heartbroken and he does not know how he can fix it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe if the duke were to put his hand on the duchess’s shoulder?” Miller muses aloud. “Let us try that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy lifts his hand, hesitating with it just above her shoulder. Clarke gives a slight nod and he lays his hand upon her shoulder, squeezing lightly because how can he not? It feels as if lightning shoots up his arm from where they touch. He watches as Clarke’s eyes fall shut for a moment before she turns to meet his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy cannot help the smile that forms as their gazes lock. She really is the most beautiful woman that he has ever known—both inside and out. Even with the pain only half-hidden in her eyes, no other woman compares to her and she is his wife. He is literally the luckiest man alive—and the biggest ass because he has surely ruined their marriage. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A small smile makes its way onto Clarke’s lips and he wonders if it is a sign that they are not completely unsalvageable. His heart soars at the thought, though he still does not know how he will do it—how he will repair what has broken. What he does know is that time is running out. </p>
<p> 
The reason that they are sitting for this portrait is that they will be throwing the last event of the season in just three days’ time. People will begin to depart London the day after their event, which means he has three days in which to figure out how he can save his marriage. Because he loves her more than he ever could have thought possible and he has truly botched it. He now knows just how wrong he was and he hates the amount of pain that he has caused Clarke for nothing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not want to give himself too much hope—because there is still the chance that she shall never forgive him for his missteps in their marriage—but he does think that he can see a hint of the love that once shined in her eyes, buried deep beneath the pain and the hurt. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, yes,” Miller cries out as he turns back to his painting. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes drop from his but the smile remains as she turns to face forward once more. Bellamy allows himself to continue to look at her for just a moment longer. He can do this—he must. He just needs a plan and for that, he might need to ask for help from someone who will likely enjoy telling him how much of an ass he has been but it shall be worth it—Octavia.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke picks up an apple, shooting a smile at the woman in the stand. She brings it to her nose and takes a long whiff of it—it smells like heaven. “I will take two dozen please,” she informs the woman before turning back to her mama. “Mama? Do you have nothing to say?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby sighs, hesitating. “I do not like the idea of interfering with your marriage,” is what she finally says. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke bites at her lip as she tries to keep her temper in check. “Mama, I came to you because I do not know what to do. I do not know how to make him see that he is wrong.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Men do not like to admit that they are wrong, Clarke. It has always been that way.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke rolls her eyes. “Just because it is the way that it has always been, does not mean that it is right. Never mind, Mama, I will figure it out on my own.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Abby can reply Sidney McCreary appears. “Your Grace. Abby.” She gives a nod to each of them. “Your Grace, I was hoping that I could have a word.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come, Clarke,” Abby says as she turns her nose up at the other woman, reaching out to grasp Clarke’s hand and tries to lead her away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke pulls her arm from her mama’s grasp—she is so tired of people telling her what to do, who to speak to, and how to act. She is a grown woman. “What may I do for you, Lady McCreary?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am sure that you are aware that because of Miss Monroe’s….indiscretions, my girls and I have been spurned by the ton.” Sidney has the grace to look ashamed. “And I know that I have not always acted well so surely that has not helped but I worry for my girls. I do not want them to pay for the mistakes of their parents, so I was hoping that we might be able to get an invitation to your event.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There is no way,” Abby starts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke stops her mama with a hand on her arm. “I would be delighted if you and your daughters—as well as Miss Monroe if she is feeling up to it—were to join us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But Clarke,” Abby begins but snaps her mouth shut at the look Clarke shoots in her direction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am tired of the way that we treat one another in society—especially the women,” Clarke says as she shakes her head. “We are all but human and we make mistakes. There should be more forgiveness in the world.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke knows that her words are meant more for herself than anyone else but it applies to this situation as well. For all of the advice that she has begged of her mama, it truly comes down to that, does it not? She must forgive Bellamy for his mistakes or lose him forever—but he must do the same and they will have to reach some kind of compromise, must they not? Because he must see that his reasoning for not having children is flawed. Surely they can come to an agreement of sorts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Your Grace.” Sidney reaches over and squeezes her hand, a broad smile on her face. She looks as if she wants to say more but she is interrupted by her housekeeper who comes scurrying up, out of breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lady McCreary,” she says, glancing up at Clarke and Abby. “Lady Griffin, Your Grace, I am so sorry to interrupt but there is a visitor at the house.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And?” Lady McCreary looks confused as to why the woman has interrupted her for this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is Sir Mbege, my lady,” the woman continues.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes widen because she knows that name. Could this be Zoe’s love? Did her letter reach the General and he had sent the man to marry the mother of his child? “We must hurry,” she says to Lady McCreary. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lady McCreary looks surprised that Clarke intends to join her but they make haste, leaving Abby staring after them with a look of confusion on her face. They make it back to the McCreary home as quickly as possible and Clarke hurries up the front steps after Lady McCreary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As she follows her into the sitting room, Clarke’s eyes find Zoe—who does not look happy. Clarke frowns, not understanding.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sir Mbege, thank you so much for coming. We were worried that you would not be getting Miss Monroe’s letters,” Lady McCreary begins.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is not Sir Myles Mbege,” Zoe interrupts, voice laced with unshed tears. “This is his brother Sir John Mbege. Myles is dead.” A sob shakes her body as she jumps up and runs from the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke hurries after her. “Zoe,” she calls and the other woman stops.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zoe’s entire body shakes with her sobs before she turns to face Clarke. “Myles started a letter to me, Clarke.” She holds up the paper clutched in her hand. “It says that he loves me and he is ecstatic that I am with child. That he cannot wait to marry me.” She shakes her head. “But he died before he could finish it. I was so wrong about him. How could I have lost faith so easily?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But at least now you know that he did love you,” Clarke begins.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, I know that the man that I love is dead but at least he loved me.” Zoe closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “His brother came to not only tell me that Myles had died but to offer to marry me to make up for his brother’s indiscretions. That is not what I desire, Clarke, but I must marry him, right? I am already ruined—what other choice do I have?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke does not know what to tell her—because she knows what society will say of her if she has a child outside of wedlock. At least if she marries Sir Mbege then she will be taken care of. “I think that you should ask yourself what Myles would want for you. Besides the obvious answer that he would wish that he was alive to marry you himself”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zoe’s shoulders slump as she says quietly, “He would not want me to do this alone. He would want me to marry his brother.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then I think you have your answer.” Clarke steps closer and takes Zoe’s free hand in her own. “It might not be what you had planned but that does not mean that you cannot live a happy life. You could learn to love him. Life does not always go as planned but we must work with what is given to us. You could be happy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once again, Clarke’s words resonate with herself. The advice that she is giving others is what she should have been saying to herself. It is what she wishes someone would have told her when she asked for help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Zoe sneers, tears still falling. “You do not look happy and you married for love, did you not?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke winces, not sure what to say to that. To the outside world, yes, she had married for love and technically she guesses that it is true but love does not conquer all. Tears prickle at her eyes as Zoe spins on her heel and runs up the stairs. She knows that she should not take Zoe’s words to heart—she is hurting after all because how could she not be when she has just found out that her love is dead. But she cannot seem to help it—she is not happy and she wishes that she were. Which means that she must do something about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She loves Bellamy, she does not question that. Yes, he has hurt her and betrayed her trust but the love is still there. Her heart still stutters when he smiles at her—just yesterday when they had been sitting for the portrait, even though her heart hurt over not being with child, his smile had sent her heart soaring. There must be a way to fix this—she must fix this. She does not want to live their lives separate from one another. She wants to live as they did before she had realized his betrayal. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now she must figure out how to make that a reality.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke directs the servants around the courtyard as they prepare for the event in two days. When she had decided that she should throw a soiree the idea had been to get people talking about herself and the duke instead of her brother and Miss Monroe. It had worked but now there is a lot of pressure on her to throw an event that is worthy of being the last event of the Season and she has not allowed herself a lot of time to put it together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had not truly expected Bellamy to assist in the planning—after all, it is the wife’s job to prepare for such events but he has shown no interest in the event at all. She does not even think that he wants to attend but knows that he will because it is what is expected of him. She sighs as she lifts her hand to her forehead, massaging her aching temples. She still has not figured out what to say to Bellamy—how to convince him that their marriage is worth saving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Everything seems to be coming together well,” the man in question says from behind her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke turns slowly and barely contains her sigh. How is it that he always looks attractive? It is not fair. “I am glad to hear that you think so. I am running low on time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You are doing a wonderful job,” he tells her. “If anyone can pull this off, it is you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke glows under his praises. She takes a moment to watch him as his eyes roam the courtyard, taking in the changes that are still underway. Before she loses her nerve she asks him, “Why did you make that vow to your father?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy freezes for a moment and Clarke worries that she made a mistake in asking him. He turns to her slowly, a mask of unfeeling firmly in place—it is a mask she has not seen since their early days of knowing one another. “The why does not matter but know that I meant it with everything in me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Even knowing that it was for naught?” she cannot help but ask.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy shakes his head. “You deserve so much more than me, Clarke,” he says quietly. “I do wish that you had listened to me and not tied yourself to a man too broken to ever deserve you.” She can see the sadness wash over him, his eyes are far off as if remembering something that is too painful to speak of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke opens her mouth to tell him that he does deserve her—that he is not too broken—but he is already shaking his head. “I must go. I must help Lincoln ready his fight tomorrow. I will not be home until late, do not wait up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then he is gone, leaving Clarke wondering what in the world had just happened. He always leaves her feeling confused and unsure of where she—and they—stand. She hates this. She makes her way into the house, trusting that the servants will follow her requests to the letter as they always have. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She finds herself wandering the house, though she does not know why. She just cannot seem to settle. She finds herself in the office that Bellamy refuses to use. She has never quite understood it but she now wonders if it might not have something to do with his father. She knows that his father spent little to no time with Bellamy as a child but she still does not understand why there is so much hate, so much pain there. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke runs a hand over the desk and it comes away dust-free so it is obvious that the servants are still cleaning in here. She wonders if that is out of habit or if it is at Bellamy’s request. One of the drawers is slightly ajar so she pulls it open, finding a bundle of letters addressed to the Duke of Hastings. She takes out the letters, frowning when she finds them unopened. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She unties the bundle and opens one of them. She finds that it is written in careful penmanship but it is obvious that it is from a child.</p>
<p> </p>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Father,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>I thought that you might be interested to know how my studies are going. As you can see my penmanship is almost impeccable. I am now well versed in history and can name off the last one hundred years’ worth of prior Dukes of Hasting. I am fascinated by history. There is so much to learn about the past in general but also our family’s history. It is by far my favorite subject.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lady Diyoza has been working with me and you will be happy to know that my stutter is all but gone. I am becoming the heir that you wish me to be. I do wish that you would write back or come to visit. It has been a very long while since I have last seen you. Lady Diyoza says that we might be able to make a trip to London to see you. As much as I love Clyvedon, I do wish to see London. Maybe when we come to visit I can stay with you for a time? Nothing would make me happier, father.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Sincerely,</em></p>
<p><em>Your son Bellamy</em></p></div></div><p> </p>
<p>Tears fill Clarke’s eyes. This heartfelt letter had been written by a child, begging for his father to love him and it had never been opened. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He was not a kind man.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke startles, glancing up to find Lady Diyoza standing in the doorway. “Bellamy’s father, I mean. I do not know if you know this, but I was very close with Bellamy’s mother. Aurora was a wonderful woman so different from her husband—loving, kind, and she could find joy in anything.” There are tears in the other woman’s eyes as she continues, “But much of that joy was taken from her as she seemed unable to conceive, and then she was pregnant and could not have been happier—though the pregnancy was not kind to her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then of course she died in childbirth and her husband could not seem to care less.” Lady Diyoza shakes her head. “I was so angry with him that I left Clyvedon and did not return for many years. When I did, what I found broke my heart. A boy that did not know a father’s love, raised by servants. I moved myself in and cared for him as if he were my own—my own husband had passed by then and I had no desire to marry again.” She pauses. “May I see the letter?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nods, handing it over to her. She takes a moment to scan it. “I did take him to London and his father still wanted nothing to do with him. Something broke inside of him that day—something that not even I or eventually Octavia, could repair. He never saw himself as enough for anything and all because that horror of a man told him that he was not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did not know,” Clarke says quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course not. Bellamy is a man and therefore would not want to show any weakness such as that.” Lady Diyoza crumples the letter in her hand before throwing it to the floor. “That man was so unkind and made both of his children feel unloved—he never deserved them. It was you that was finally able to help him begin to repair what I thought would always be broken—if it was not for you, he would have nothing to live for.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shakes her head. “I do think that you might be mistaken.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am not, of that I can assure you.” Lady Diyoza takes Clarke’s hands into hers. “You must not give up on him. He is broken but you are helping him heal. I do not know what has happened between the two of you but I know that he loves you. If you do not find a way to remedy this discourse between the two of you, I do believe we will have lost him forever.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s tears spill over once more. “I do not know how.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You must use your heart and not your head, child,” she tells her. “I know that you are used to solving problems with your mind but it will not help you here. The only way to fix this is with your heart.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets the tears fall as her body begins to shake, sobs falling from her mouth. Lady Diyoza pulls her into her arms and Clarke lets herself be held, wondering if she can do what the lady thinks that she can. But she also knows that she must because she knows that the other woman is correct—if she does not fix this, Bellamy will be lost to her.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>You would not believe the most recent turn of events in the scandal involving Miss Monroe. It appears that a Sir Mbege appeared at her door, though no one seems to know who he is, and asked for her hand in marriage. They received a special license—which of course we know they were granted due to the circumstances—and were married the same day. Now the newlyweds are on their way to their new home to begin their lives together. It must be assumed that he is the father of her child for who else would marry her when she is with child? I wish them well and am for one, glad that there is a happy ending to her story.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In other news, tomorrow evening the ton will be arriving at the last event of the Season to take place at the home of the duke and duchess. With such a short time to put it together, I cannot help but wonder if the event will be worthy of being the last event of the Season. I guess we shall see tomorrow evening because do not fear—I will most definitely be in attendance.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Though it appears that the duke’s attention has been focused elsewhere. Later today there is to be another boxing match involving the duke’s brother-in-law Lincoln Woods. I might not know much of the sport but it is being said that this could be the fight of Mr. Woods’s career. Such a bloody sport but I can see the appeal that men have in watching other men release their violent natures for their enjoyment. That is all I have for now but do not doubt that I will have more soon, of that I am sure. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy winces as Lincoln takes a hard punch to the face. Something has seemed off with Lincoln all day—he is not fighting as well as Bellamy knows that he can. He does not understand it at all. Is it possible that there is a problem with Octavia and the baby? Or Nicholas? Bellamy had seen his sister just the night before and nothing had seemed amiss but he cannot think of any other reason for his friend and brother to be fighting like this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next hit knocks Lincoln to the ground and he stays down. Bellamy frowns. It had not been that hard of a hit, so why is he not getting back up? He hears the cheers of the crowd as the countdown begins and then it is over. He shakes his head. Did Lincoln just throw the fight?  If he did, why would he do that? Bellamy does not understand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not wanting to wait around and watch what follows, Bellamy makes his way to the tent that serves as Lincoln’s dressing area to wait for him. He keeps replaying the fight over and over in his head. He had been sure that Lincoln would win today—after all, that is what they have been working toward. This fight could have gotten him into bigger fights but now that he has lost? Bellamy does not know what this will mean for Lincoln’s career.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What was that?” he asks as soon as Lincoln pushes the tent flap aside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lincoln spares him a glance before moving to start getting changed. “I lost. It happens.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, it really does not.” Bellamy laughs. “You do not lose and you definitely do not lose like that. Did you throw the fight?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And if I did?” Lincoln asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy scoffs. “Then I would ask you what fool put that idea in your head.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lincoln spins around, eyes flashing with anger. “You do not understand, Bellamy, so you can get off your high horse.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, then make me understand because the man that married my sister would never do something like this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lincoln laughs as he shakes his head. “Do not think that I did not discuss this with Octavia before I made my decision, Bellamy. We have another child on the way and unlike you, we do not have an unlimited amount of money available to us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you need money, all you have to do is ask,” Bellamy begins.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should not have to beg my brother-in-law for money in order to support my family,” Lincoln roars before taking a deep breath. “We do not need nor want your money. I will support us in whatever way that Octavia and I find fit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But your career…” Bellamy trails off when Lincoln pins him with a glare.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Trust me, I know what this did to my career, Bellamy. I am fully aware.” He shakes his head. “A boxer’s career lasts for how long? Ten years if I am lucky? The money that I made today is enough to take care of my family for <em>years</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not say anything because Lincoln is right—he does not know what it is like to ever want for anything. But what he does not understand is their insistence to not take money from him. He has the money and they are family. Why must they both be so stubborn and proud?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not try and convince me to take your money again, Bellamy. I can see it in your eyes. We are not having this conversation again.” He shakes his head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy is angry with Lincoln and he does not understand why he is so angry. He understands—to a point—why he had felt the need to throw the fight and yet rage burns within Bellamy. “You are better than this, Lincoln. And if you are found out you will drag my sister and your children down with you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lincoln moves slowly but it is no less intimidating as the other man moves to tower over Bellamy. “As I said, Octavia was a part of this decision. Now, why do you not focus on your own failing marriage? Do you even care to fix it?” He shakes his head, disgust dripping in his words. “You are not angry with me, you are angry with yourself for not being man enough to fix what you have broken.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rage courses through Bellamy anew and before he knows it his fist is flying at Lincoln’s face. Lincoln catches it easily, squeezing it to prove a point before throwing Bellamy’s arm aside. “Do not start something that you cannot finish, Bellamy. I have a lot of pent-up aggression after not fighting my best. You do not want to play this game with me.” He sighs. “Just go, I do not wish to fight with you. Your sister and I will see you at your event tomorrow night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Without another word Lincoln steps away and moves about changing once more, leaving Bellamy stewing in his anger—an anger that Lincoln is absolutely correct about. He is so angry and frustrated with himself. He runs a hand through his hair as he stalks from the tent. It is getting late and he knows that he should head home but instead heads for the closest tavern. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He needs a drink—or a few dozen. And who knows? Maybe he will be able to find someone willing to fight him at the tavern.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke makes sure to make it to the breakfast table well before Bellamy—not so that she can finish before him but so that he is aware that she wants him to see her. This is deliberate and the first step in her plan to repair their marriage. She will not leave London with their marriage in tatters. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Bellamy comes in he does a double-take upon seeing her. “Clarke? What are you doing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am enjoying my breakfast,” she tells him without looking up from the book that she is reading.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, I can see that, but why in here?” Bellamy sounds confused. “You usually take your breakfast in your room.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke glances up at him as he sits. “I felt like a change,” she says simply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He still looks confused but does not comment on it further as they both go back to eating. She tries to go back to reading but after reading the same two sentences for the tenth time in a row she gives up. Closing her book, she looks up at her husband once more. “Charlotte arrived home this morning and I am planning to go over after I finish with breakfast,” she tells him as he glances up to meet her eyes, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “Would you care to join me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sees the surprise cross his face before he schools his expression and nods. “It would be nice to see your family.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excellent,” she responds before they lapse back into silence. At least it is a step in the correct direction—or at least she hopes that it is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once they finish with their breakfast they make their way to the Griffin home. She is ecstatic to see Charlotte as it has been many months. Clarke swears that she has grown even in those few months. She settles in to listen to Charlotte’s tales of caring for their aunt, eyes following Bellamy as Madi and Ethan lead him to one of the couches. They sit on each side of him, peppering him with questions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It makes her ache inside as she watches how good he is with them. He would make the most excellent father—if only he would believe her when she tells him this. She finds herself listening rather than talking today—she has not been keeping up well with her siblings' lives the last few months as she has been too wrapped up in her own problems.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have an acquaintance with Emori Laurant,” Murphy says from his spot next to Raven, eyes locked on Roan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The dressmaker?” Roan asks but for once he does not sound like he is judging. When Murphy nods Roan snatching one of Raven’s chocolates before standing. “Are you happy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then that is all that I care about.” Roan tosses the chocolate into his mouth before mussing Raven’s hair, pulling an annoyed shriek from her. He grins before making his way over to their mama.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes are wide as she meets Murphy’s. Since when had Roan been so….relaxed? Clarke just shrugs as she bites back a laugh. She does not know what has caused this change in her brother but she is glad for it. Just as she is glad that Murphy has formed an attachment to a woman—Clarke does not care if she is a dressmaker. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harper appears in the doorway to the sitting room and Clarke waves to her. She truly hopes that the McCrearys are able to overcome this scandal. She might not care much for Roma, Bree, or their mama but Harper? Harper is one of the sweetest girls that Clarke has ever known and she does not deserve this. She knows that, unlike Raven, Harper wishes to marry and have children. Theirs is an odd friendship as they are so different but she is happy that Raven has a friend such as Harper to keep her grounded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lets her eyes fall to her husband once more, smiling as he makes a horse from paper before presenting it to Madi. Madi squeals with delight and throws her arms around him. It tugs at her heart once more and she truly hopes that she can convince him that being a father is what he is meant to be.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>This is it, my readers. The last event of the Season is tonight. As we converge on the home of the duke and the duchess, a reminder to all of the young ladies who have not yet found themselves engaged—tonight is the last night to make an impression. This is your last chance to find yourself a husband or wait until next Season when another group of ladies will join in the search. When I say this it is not to scare you into settling—I am just reminding you that these things have a timetable. Enjoy yourself tonight but keep your eye out—you never know when you might meet the man that is right for you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I look forward to seeing what kind of soiree the duchess was able to pull together in just over a week. Obviously, she is good at going after what it is she desires—after all, she is the one that used a prince to make the duke jealous and now she is married to him. Whether she regrets that decision is still yet to be seen but I do believe that she will give us a wonderful conclusion to another scandal-filled Season. Worry not, you will hear from me once more before you leave London. I cannot leave you without one last piece, now can I? Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke smiles as she looks at the portrait that Miller did of herself and Bellamy. It truly is a work of art—even if they look much too serious for her liking. She runs her hands down her dress, making sure that it sits just right. She wonders what Bellamy will think of her dress. She had it made with him in mind—he has commented on numerous occasions that he loves her in blue. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It is a good likeness, is it not?” Bellamy asks as he steps up beside her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke gives him a tight smile as she glances up at him. “We look much too serious.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you have something against being serious?” he asks her, eyes twinkling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have a problem with us looking so unlike ourselves,” she tells him. “Though I guess as of late, there has not been much reason for us to smile, has there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy frowns but before he can say anything Clarke waves her hand in the air. “I am not trying to start another argument. Especially not when our guests should be arriving any minute now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So how many dances are you thinking tonight?” Bellamy asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke laughs at his change of topics—not that she blames him. “I say three?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Three? Oh no, that is too many. We want to leave them wanting more. I say one.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One? I think not.” Clarke scoffs. “Fine, we shall meet in the middle at two. I am sure that we can stand one another for that long.” She had not meant to say it nor to sound so bitter about it but it is done now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, Clarke, there is something that I must say,” Bellamy begins but stops when one of their servants appears. “Yes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The guests are arriving,” he says with a bow before scurrying away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke forces a smile, though she is curious what it is that he had planned to say. “You better get that smile ready, Bellamy. No one is coming to see you frown.” She moves toward the stairs where she sees her family already stepping inside along with a host of other people.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke quickly moves to greet everyone that she can with a smile and a hello, Bellamy following her. This might be the worst part of hosting an event. Not long after, she sees Raven getting heated while talking to a gentleman she excuses herself and makes her way over to her. “Is everything all right over here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Raven glances up at her, eyes flashing with anger. “Someone does not seem to understand the words I am not interested.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nods slowly, turning to glare at the man. “You heard the lady. You may go now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man scurries away leaving the two girls to giggle together. “I guess now that you are a duchess they are more scared of you than me,” Raven comments.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Or maybe they were always more scared of me,” Clarke says with a grin. “I know that you do not care for all of this but thank you for coming and you do look beautiful tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you, Clarke. It is only because I love you that I am here though.” Raven gives her a half-smile. “But also, thank you for being so perfect so that I did not have to be.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s heart fills with love for her sister—they might not always see eye to eye or understand each other but they will always be there for one another. “If you want to go hide out in the library, I will make sure that Mama does not find you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really?” Raven’s eyes widen before she looks around to see if their mama is paying attention. She leans over and presses a kiss to Clarke’s cheek. “I love you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you, too.” Clarke smiles as she watches her go. She turns around and starts making her way around the courtyard, pausing when she sees Monty and Harper off to the side. Harper is looking up at Monty with absolute adoration and Clarke cannot believe that she never saw that look before and wonders how it is that she missed it. How long has Harper been in love with her brother?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am sorry for turning you away the night that you came to tell me about Miss Monroe,” Monty tells her. “I know now that you were just trying to keep me from having my heart broken. You are a good friend.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Friend?” Harper laughs. “Monty, I am in love with you,” she blurts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the same time, Monty tells her, “I am leaving tomorrow to travel as I originally planned.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Harper stares up at him and it is obvious that she did not mean to say it as tears fill her eyes. She stands there for a moment, Clarke assumes to see if Monty will say anything, but when he does not she spins on her heels and runs from the party. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty stands there bewildered as Clarke moves up to stand beside him. “I am doomed to have three older brothers who are all fools, am I not?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Monty blinks down at her. “I am sorry. What?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Harper just told you that she was in love with her and you stood there staring at her.” Clarke shakes her head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did not know,” he tells her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you do now, so what are you going to do about it?” she asks him with a raised brow before shaking her head. “Do not be a fool, Monty. She is a good woman.” With that she turns away, leaving him to figure this out on his own. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She runs into her mama who is watching her, a smile on her face and her own brow raised. “Meddling are we?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke shrugs. “Should I leave my brothers to continue to act like absolute fools? I just want them to be happy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And what about you Clarke? Are you happy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke does not answer right away, eyes searching out Bellamy who is talking with his sister and Lincoln with a smile on his face. She wonders if he will ever look at her like that again. “At the moment? Absolutely.” And it is not even a lie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Abby tells her with a frown.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And yet it is the answer I gave you.” Clarke shakes her head. “I do not wish to discuss it right now, Mama.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Abby is silent for a moment. “I miss your father every day. I know that I do not talk of him often and that is because it still hurts—even after all of these years. I know that you will only remember the best of him as it should be but our marriage was far from perfect Clarke. We made a decision every day to make it work. We had to work for it, it was never simple and often not easy. You and the duke need to make that same decision if you have any chance of being happy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke nods slowly. “It cannot only be me that makes that decision, Mama, but I hear you.” Clarke squeezes her arm gently. “Thank you.”</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy does not like Season events at the best of times but he really does not enjoy hosting one. He cannot just hide away and avoid conversation. No, he must smile and say hello to everyone and talk to whoever wishes to speak with him—even when he would rather not. But as Lady Diyoza makes her way over to him he smiles a genuine smile. “So what do you think?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think that your wife did an amazing job—not that I ever doubted her,” Lady Diyoza says before hesitating. “I know that you will say that it is none of my business, but I am making it my business. Do you intend to leave Clarke on her own?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy frowns. “I plan to always take care of my wife,” he tells her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not be obtuse. You know exactly what I am asking.” Anger flashes in her eyes. “I raised you better than this. That woman is too good for you but she is your wife and she loves you. Do not abandon her as your father did you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy can do nothing but gape at her for a moment. “I do not-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not lie to me, Bellamy,” Lady Diyoza hisses, cutting him off. “I can see that look in your eyes—the one that says you want to run. I am not nearly as blind or as dumb as you seem to think I am. Fix this with her. Do not sentence the both of you to a life of misery.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Bellamy can even think of a reply she is gone. He runs a hand over his face as he lets out a heavy sigh. Yes, he had intended to lead a separate life from Clark at one point but that is no longer his plan. He wants to fix this, he is just unsure of how to do it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His eyes catch on Clarke as she moves through the crowd and he is once again struck by her beauty. He is moving toward her before he even realizes it. “May I have this dance?” he asks her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.” Clarke places her hand in his and allows him to lead her to the dance floor. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The blue dress she wears makes her eyes even bluer and brighter—something he had not thought possible. As they begin to move to the choreography, he wonders once more how he is going to fix this. Tonight is his chance—he fears it might be his last chance. And yet he still has no idea what he will say or do to make it right. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes lock on his and he cannot look away. She mesmerizes him. He wonders how he ever thought that he could deny her anything ever. He wants to give her the world. She is the only thing that he sees and she is the only thing he wishes to see. Gods, he loves her so much it hurts. He has been an absolute fool.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a crack of thunder and then the rain begins to fall down on them, breaking them from their reverie. Bellamy makes to dash to the awning as their guests do the same but stops when Clarke does not move, instead looking up into the sky with a grin on her face. “Clarke? Come. Let us get out of the rain.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why?” she asks as she drops her gaze to his. “It is beautiful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy finds himself mesmerized by her once again as she spins in the rain, arms held out to her side as she giggles. All he wants to do is take her in his arms and make love to her—right here, right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Behind him, he hears someone clear their throat but he does not care. His only care in the world is the woman right in front of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, go home. All of you. This event is over,” he hears Lady Diyoza call out and then people begin to filter out until they are alone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy makes his way over to Clarke, reaching out to grab her wrist and bringing her to a stop. She grins up at him, hair plastered to her face and she has never looked so happy. “I am a fool,” he tells her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I knew that,” is her response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy cannot help the laugh that falls from his lips. “You are not going to make this easy are you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke quickly sobers. “Make what easy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I love you, Clarke,” he tells her. “I am in love with you and have been I think from almost the first moment that I saw you—no matter what I told myself. You consume me and the fact that I thought a vow that I made to my dead father meant something—anything at all—in comparison to you is ridiculous. I am sorry for being so stubborn and not listening because I knew that you were correct. But most of all I am sorry for hurting you. I will never forgive myself for that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke lays her hands on his chest. “I have already forgiven you, Bellamy. I understand that the way that your father treated you made you think that the vow you made to him was your only recourse. But you will make an amazing father if you would just allow yourself to. And what a payback that would be to your father. To show him that just because he did not know how to love does not mean that you do not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You still wish to have children with me?” he asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you wish to have children with me?” she returns.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“More than anything in the world.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before the words are even out of his mouth, Clarke is leaning into him and he lowers his head to press their lips together. He groans as he pulls her more firmly against him, her arms going around his neck. He has missed her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He pulls back to press kisses to her neck, murmuring how much he loves her, admires her, and desires her against her skin. Her nails scrape down his neck and he wants to take her right here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then do it. Take me right here, right now,” she tells him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy pulls away, eyes wide. He had not meant to say that aloud but who is he to deny her? “Whatever my lady desires,” he responds, lips crashing down onto hers once again. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He is ravenous for her and has no patience for the clothing that she wears, heavy and wet against her skin. He grasps the back of the dress and pulls, buttons popping as they tear away from the material and causing Clarke to gasp into the kiss. He pushes the sopping wet material from her body before turning her around to undo the ties on her corset. His fingers fumble and it is not just from the rain, but finally, he rips it from her body and drops it to the ground with her dress. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He turns her to face him, eyes hungry as he pushes the rest of her undergarments from her body until she stands before him naked. Bellamy knows that they should take this inside—to their bedroom seeing as the servants could walk out and see them at any moment but he cannot find it in himself to care. Let them see him fuck his wife and see how they both enjoy it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy lowers his head, tongue flickering across on her hardened nipples as his hand snakes between her legs. As he slides his fingers along her center he can feel just how wet she is—just how much she wants him. He groans before lifting his head to kiss her again as he slips one finger into her easily and then a second. It does not take much for him to be able to add a third and then he is fucking her with his fingers, his palm brushing her clit with each pass. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke breaks their kiss to let her head fall back, moans spilling from her lips as she rocks her hips to meet the thrust of his fingers. She looks glorious with the rain falling around her, her mouth agape as she whines his name. She is already clenching around his fingers and with just a few more thrusts she is coming, fingers clawing at his shirt as her back arches. And all the while he continues to fuck her on his fingers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as she settles, he pulls his fingers from her and yanks his shirt off while her nimble fingers work on undoing his pants. He drops them to the ground and then they are naked and he realizes he cannot just lay her on the ground and fuck her in the rain. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke must see the indecision on his face because she laughs and grabs his hand, pulling him to the ground. But instead of lying on her back, she pushes him back, the grass wet against his bare back. She straddles his hips, taking him into her hands and working him slowly as she meets his eyes. “Are you sure?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes,” he moans. “Yes, let me put a baby in you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something flashes in Clarke’s eyes as she rises to her knees and guides him to her center. She lowers herself slowly, head falling back as they moan together. She is hot and tight around him. His hands land on her hips as she begins to move above him and he finds himself smiling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She makes quite the picture—his wife. With one hand on his chest, she rides him and takes exactly what she needs. The rain continues to fall around them as he begins to meet her thrust for thrust. She lets out a long moan after a particularly hard meeting of their hips. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy repeats the movement, again and again, loving the sounds that fall from her lips. He is so close. “Touch yourself, Clarke. Touch yourself for me. I am so close.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clarke’s eyes meet his as she continues the hard and fast pace that she started. Her free hand makes it between her legs and she circles her clit rapidly. It does not take long and she is coming around him. He squeezes her hips and fucks up into her faster and harder than before and then he is falling apart with her. She grinds down on him as she milks him and for the first time in his life, he is not freaking out over the fact that he has just come inside of a woman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, they both calm down and Clarke collapses onto his chest. He runs a hand through her hair. “We should probably go inside before we catch a cold,” he tells her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mmmmm, I like it here,” she says into his chest. She lifts her head to meet his eyes. “Do you think that you put a baby in me?” She grins as she lifts an eyebrow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am not sure.” He shakes his head. “I think that we should have a bite to eat and a bath. And then we should try again and again and again until we are sure.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do like the sound of that,” she tells him before leaning up to kiss him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bellamy feels like he might burst from happiness. Has he ever known happiness like this? He thinks not. But he hopes that he can spend the rest of his life this happy. He knows that he will do his damndest to make sure that his wife is always this happy. He vows to never hurt her in the way that he had before and this is the only vow that matters because her happiness is the only thing that matters. And he’s glad that he’s finally realized it.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p></p><div class="article-box"><h3>Dearest Readers,</h3>
<p></p><div class="article"><p>Today is a sad day because it is the day that we all say goodby to London until next Season. I know that there are those of you who think that you might know who I am but I have no intention of revealing who I am—at least not yet. The queen might have sent men to try and find out my identity but they failed as all others will fail. But do not fret I will return to you next Season to keep all of you up to date on the going ons of the ton.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It would be amiss of me not to mention the closing event of the Season. I know that I said I was unsure if the duchess would be able to pull off such an event in so little time but even I can admit when I am wrong. The event was everything the last event should be—even down to the scandalous glances that the duke and duchess shared beneath the rain as their guests looked on. I say good on them. It is good to see that they seem to have moved past whatever problems they were dealing with since returning from their honeymoon. I can only wish them all of the happiness in the world for the rest of their days.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the rest of you, enjoy your reprieve. I will be here watching and reporting all of next Season. Be ready for me and I am sure there will be plenty of scandals for me to uncover. Until then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Lady Whistledown</em></p></div></div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do hope that you have enjoyed this (long) chapter! Just a few quick notes. Because this story is about Bellamy and Clarke none of the other storylines will be covered in much detail. They might be mentioned in passing, etc. but will not be heavily included in the story. Second, yes, all three chapters will be estimately this length.</p><p>I thrive on kudos and comments, so please drop me a line and let me know what you think!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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